New Patterns & Old Fr : 07 The Improbability Zone
by kalinda001
Summary: Last story of the New Patterns & Old Friends Series. Avon is scheming again. Sester is deep in strategy. Is Servalan playing her own dangerous game? Jenna, Cally and Vila are trying to save the day. ORAC is being blocked at every turn.
1. Chapter 1

This is the seventh and final story in the _New Patterns and Old Friends_ B7 story series. I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave me a comment. Feedback is always welcome.

I have already started the next series, called _Perceptions,_ which follows after this one. The first story is already complete in that one and I am currently working on the 2nd story for it.

I know that one or two of you have moved over to the LiveJournal site in order to follow this series of stories. That is always welcome.

Thanks,

Kalinda001

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter One

"Where is he?" Reya asked the healer when she entered the infirmary. She was there to see how Argus was doing. Reya had been doing that every few hours since they arrived back at Borel's castle. After two days of this, she was tired and had become increasingly irritable. Borel was glad when she went to check on Argus.

When Reya arrived in the infirmary, she had been shocked to see the empty bed.

Argus, the rebel leader of the _Justice_, had been shot two days ago; when he and Reya had fallen into a trap on the agricultural planet, Alabar. It had been a trap specifically designed to catch whoever was responsible for helping Borel Reve restore his forces from the manipulation being done by his brother, Ellis. The three Reve brothers were currently embroiled in a civil war to determine who would become the next Overlord over Sector Ten.

Not only had Argus been shot, but he had also suffered severe injuries due to the torture he had suffered when he had been captured on Alabar.

Healer Garett had just reported that Argus had finally regained consciousness.

"He insisted he was fine and said he would go rest in his room. We stopped him but he snuck out when I was tending to my assistant," the healer told her.

The poor assistant, who was now resting on a bed at the far end of the room, had a concussion because he had tried to stop Argus earlier. How Argus managed that in his condition, they still could not figure out. No one told them that Argus was still very capable of damage even with severe injuries hampering him.

"The idiot!" exclaimed Reya.

Healer Garett was a thin, serious man who wore the same fatigues as the rest of Borel's soldiers. Over the fatigues he wore the long dark green vest worn by medical personnel. Very few patients were able to go against his wishes in any health matter. He was a very determined healer who accepted no nonsense, especially not from his patients. But he had never run into someone as strongwilled and stubborn as Argus before.

"It was against my advice but he's not one of our men, so I couldn't order him. With his injuries, he should not be moving around. He's still very weak. Plus I just gave him a strong painkiller. It should be making him feel very drowsy and very good right now. We were waiting until the drugs took effect before sending someone after him. He should be passed out somewhere by now."

"Don't bother, I'll go look for him. I'll bring him back _after_ I kill him." Reya turned around and exited the room.

The healer looked after her retreating back. He had a slight smile on his face. Reya Reve had never been the most cooperative patient herself in the past.

Argus was making his way slowly towards the command centre. For some reason, the walls kept moving on him and the floor appeared to be undergoing a major geological event of some kind. He had to hang onto the wall with his one good arm to stay upright. His other arm was currently in a sling. The world seemed like a wonderful place, even if it did not seem to be cooperating with him at the moment.

He couldn't remember why he was going to the command centre. Just that he needed to. Once Argus made up his mind, very few things could stop him. He had actually made it a lot farther than anyone would have expected for a man in his condition.

"Argus!" Someone shouted out his name. He turned around to see who it was. For some reason, this took a major effort.

His face lit up as he saw who it was. "Reya!" He tried to walk towards her but his feet did not appear to be cooperating with each other and he fell. Reya crossed the distance between them in record time and caught him before he hit the ground.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked as she helped him back up. She sounded very cross. Reya had looked for him along the path to his room but had not found him. She had guessed that he had done something stupid, like going to the command centre.

Argus didn't want her to be angry with him. He wanted to tell her how extraordinary she was for rescuing him; but all he could manage was a barely coherent, "You're wonderful."

"Yes, I know. You've said that many times," Reya said as she gently but firmly guided him back to the infirmary.

In the command cruiser, as they had returned to Borel's base on Zirgon, the drugged and dazed rebel leader had kept trying to say "You're wonderful" to her with varying degrees of success. It had seemed important to him. He was suffering from shock and had been given drugs to knock him out until he could receive proper medical treatment; he had not been himself.

"I feel fine," Argus reassured her in a slurred voice. He had noticed the worried look on her face. The rebel leader tried to go back towards the command centre again.

"That's just the drugs talking. Now stop being an idiot. You are going back to the infirmary," Reya told him.

He smiled at her. He wanted to make her happy. "Yes, I'm an idiot and you are wonderful," he cheerfully agreed with her. She sounded so wise.

He stopped resisting and allowed her to take him back to the infirmary. Once there, the healer helped Reya put Argus back into bed.

"You're going to stay here and rest until the healer says you can leave," Reya ordered him. "Or I'm going to tie you to the bed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Reya," said Argus with a big grin on his face. He did feel tired. She was very wise. And she looked so beautiful. Argus closed his eyes and went to sleep.

"Did he suffer a concussion?" Reya asked the healer. "He doesn't seem to be making much sense."

"A mild one, yes. But it's more a result of the drugs."

"What about his other injuries?"

"They already put a healing patch on his shoulder wound; so it's healing nicely. He did lose a lot of blood though." Garett was referring to the enemy medtech who had tended to Argus's injuries while they tortured him.

"The other injuries which were the result of the torture are not permanent; and are also healing. The shoulder joints will take longer. There was extensive tearing. That's why I gave him the stronger painkiller. I was shocked that he was actually able to get out of bed on his own. Not to mention disabling my assistant. He must have extraordinary will."

_Yes, he has extraordinary something_, thought Reya.

Garret continued speaking, "He will have to spend some time doing rehabilitation exercises to regain the full range of movement once he heals. But he should make a full recovery given time."

"Thank you, Healer Garett. If he becomes difficult again, let me know," she told him as she headed back to the command centre to report to her brother.

Avon found himself working on the anti-detector screen problem in his head; even when he was in his cell and was not required to. He used it as a mental exercise to keep his mind occupied during the torturous rest periods.

There was another reason. They would not allow him to move onto the next project until he finished the current one. Moving onto the next project meant an opportunity to work with another human being again. It was not the human contact which was the most important thing to him; though it was something he found he did miss. There was something he needed access to which would only happen if he was allowed to work with another human being.

The cell door opened. The psychostrategist strode in. Avon had not had a visit from Sester in weeks. He found that he was actually looking forward to having one of their talks. But his face revealed nothing.

"Avon."

"You again."

"How are you feeling?"

"Is this an attempt at conditioning? Is that why you always ask the same question?"

Sester smiled. "I notice that you never answer my question the same way twice."

"I do not like to repeat myself."

"Yes. Repetition is the refuge of unimaginative minds."

"Yet you repeat the same question," Avon replied without emotion.

Sester laughed. "I have a reason for everything I do, Avon. And I assure you, it is always creative."

"What do you want from me?"

"We haven't had a talk in quite a while."

"And here I thought that you had finally found a friend and would stop pestering me." 

The psychostrategist smiled. Avon was not a friend, but he did consider him a worthy opponent. For a psychostrategist, that was much more important.

"How are you enjoying your additional free time?"

Avon gave a faint scowl. "I am using it to plan my escape."

Sester looked at Avon in shock. That was the last response he had expected. Sester began laughing. Avon was an entertaining opponent as well as a dangerous one.

"You knew that my psych-profile on you already told me that."

Avon smiled cynically. "Of course."

_Of course_, thought Sester. _Yes, what are you up to, Avon._

"You realize that it will be very bad for you when I do find out," warned Sester.

"I wouldn't expect anything else. But as long as I am cooperating, you will do nothing."

_Or appear to be cooperating. Very well, we will play this game for now,_ thought Sester.

"You have been manipulating our dear Federation President," said Sester.

"Haven't you been doing the same thing?" Avon countered.

Sester looked sharply at Avon. "She already knows that," he told him.

"You mean she saw through you."

"Yes," Sester smiled. "She actually threatened me."

Avon wondered. _But does she know about me? Are those times with you, really only a charade, Servalan? A chance to live a dream which is not real? What are your real plans for me?_

"But you already had what you wanted by then," said Avon.

"From her, yes."

"But not from me."

"That is only a matter of time, Avon."

"You will not tell her what I am doing?"

"Not as long as you serve my purposes."

_What is that purpose? _wondered Avon. He did not like the sounds of this.

"Now what were we talking about in our last conversation." Sester changed the topic.

They spoke for another hour. It was an enjoyable game of cat and mouse.

Sester got up from his chair and said, "Hold up your hands."

Avon regarded him with suspicion but did as directed.

Sester took a set of keys from his jacket pocket and unlocked Avon's manacles.

"You don't have to wear these when you're in here anymore. They will be put back on whenever you leave the cell."

"More of your guidelines?" Avon said with a strong tone of sarcasm. "More of your manipulation?"

"Do not provoke me when I am extending you a freedom, Avon. I can change my mind and put them back on. And they will not come off again. Do you want me to do that?"

"No."

An hour of verbal battling with his enemy had almost made Avon forget that he was supposed to be cooperating. Sester left the cell and took the manacles with him.

Avon thought, _As long as you and Servalan continue to play this game, that is all the chance I need. But I must be careful. I must continue to cooperate._

The new guidelines were proving to be very useful for him. As long as he was outwardly cooperating in everything, they would not return him to the isolation cell.

Avon had no illusions what they would do to him if they ever found out. But in the meantime, they had no proof he was planning anything. Even the admission to Sester proved nothing. It had been no real gamble. It had been impossible that Sester had not guessed that he was planning something.

_This time I must win_, thought Avon. _I have to._

Avon found himself thinking of the Federation President. The only one being played was Servalan. For some reason this caused a brief feeling of regret. Avon shook his head. He refused to have these thoughts. The glimpses of the human being underneath the deadly snake were part of the illusion.


	2. Chapter 2

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Two

"My name is Reya Reve, I am Borel Reve's sister," Reya told Jenna. "You are Jenna Stannis?"

For some reason, Reya was being very formal. This was the first time she was meeting with someone from Argus's life; which she had no part of.

Reya knew that Argus had regular communications with his people and that they would probably be worried when they didn't hear from him. She had decided to make contact and let them know what happened.

_So you're the mysterious, Reya Reve_, thought Jenna as a uniformed stranger appeared on her screen. Olean Rane had offered Jenna the use of the private communications equipment in his room at the Athol Palace. It gave her much more privacy than using the normal communications room.

The ex-smuggler knew that the dead Overlord had a daughter but had heard very little about her. The uniformed woman on the screen did not have the strong jaw that the Reve sons shared but she had the same eyes and the same bright energy to her even though she was clearly tired. There were dark circles under her eyes.

"Yes, I'm Jenna Stannis," Jenna replied. Immediately she asked, "Did something happen to Argus?" It was not like Argus to miss a communication, unless something was wrong.

"He's been shot," the uniformed woman told Jenna. "We were following a lead but it turned out to be a trap. We escaped, but Argus was hurt. He saved both our lives."

"Will he be alright?" Jenna asked with concern in her voice.

"He is healing," the woman told her. She seemed to hesitate then said, "He was also tortured."

"I thought you said that you both escaped?"

"Yes, we did, but Argus was captured when I went to scout the area. I was able to get him out, but they hurt him very badly," the woman told her. There was no emotion on the uniformed woman's face. She appeared cold and hard.

_Maybe, I'm imagining things_, thought Jenna. _How could someone be so cold and say what she just said? Maybe it's the resolution on the screen. Either way, you are a very strange woman._

"Is there anything we can do?" Jenna asked, thinking of the advanced medical facilities on the _Justice_.

"There is no need. We have excellent healers. It will just take time for him to heal. I will let him know that I have contacted you." The woman spoke abruptly.

_Why am I acting like this?_ Reya wondered to herself.

"Is there any message you wish to pass to him? I will see that he gets it," Reya told Jenna.

"Nothing urgent. Tell him things are progressing slowly on this end and not to worry," Jenna replied.

Jenna was not about to tell Argus that they were in the process of planning a major operation to rescue Kameron Reve's lover from his brother, Ellis. She was afraid that Argus would come immediately to help. He was like that, even if he was on his deathbed.

"Take care of him," Jenna asked the woman. She had been about to say "for me" but had decided against it.

"Very well. Reya out."

* * *

"Yes, he was rescued four days ago," psychostrategist Tace reported over Sester's vidscreen at the Special Detention Centre.

"Were they able to find out who he was working for?" asked Sester.

"No. They were not able to find out before they let him escape. They did not have much time to work on him," replied Tace.

"Unfortunate. They placed the tracker in him?"

"Yes, it is functioning perfectly. He appears to be back on Zirgon."

"Excellent. He will be able to help Borel. The commando units are being deployed?"

"Yes. They are on their way to disrupt the communications arrays. I do have to report that they were a little too zealous in their questioning of the prisoner. He may not be able to help Borel for awhile."

Federation commando units were always overly enthusiastic in the commission of their tasks and sometimes had more initiative than their overseers would like.

Sester shook his head. "If that was the case then we need not have bothered letting him escape. But let him run for now. He may prove useful later on. Sester out."

* * *

Reya was sitting by Argus's bed in the infirmary as he slept. He had tried to leave the infirmary again and she didn't really want to tie him down; so she had volunteered to stay with him. They had set up a cot for her beside him. She couldn't sleep; even though the healer had ordered her to get some rest. How could she tell him that everytime she lay down and as her consciousness clouded into sleep, she would be woken by the sounds of screaming; the memories of Argus's screams as he was being tortured.

It had been the hardest ten hours she had ever spent; waiting for the coast to be clear so she could rescue Argus. She had been lying in a concealed position nearby; watching.

The sounds of Argus being tortured; his moans of agony and his screams of pain had almost made her ill. The only times the sounds stopped were when he passed out and the medtech attended to him. Then they had dragged his limp and bleeding body out to a tree and strung him up. His screams when they nearly dislocated his shoulders had made her so angry she had almost broken cover to kill them all. But she had controlled herself, for his sake.

Then she had to force herself to continue waiting until the camp settled in for the night while the cruel guard continued to torture him. By the time it was safe and she could go to rescue Argus; so much of her hatred was concentrated on the guard that she wanted to rip his head off. She had never killed in anger before.

"Reya," Argus called her name.

Reya sat up and leaned towards him.

"Where are we?" he asked. His voice was a faint whisper. "Are we safe?"

"Yes, we're back at the castle."

"Good. Are you alright?"

Reya nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak anymore. It was the first time in days that he sounded like himself.

"When was the last time you got some sleep?" he asked weakly. Even though his vision was blurry, he saw that she looked terrible.

Reya did not answer. She didn't remember the last time she slept. _At least you're not telling me that I'm wonderful,_ she thought. Reya did not feel wonderful.

It was painful but Argus reached out with his hand and placed it on hers.

"Get some sleep," he told her. "I'm going to get some sleep too," his voice trailed off as his eyes closed and fell asleep again. The effort of speaking had tired him out.

She looked down at his hand. It was still resting on hers. Holding his hand in hers, she leaned back in the chair and was finally able to sleep.

* * *

"Vila, are you still bored up there?" Jenna asked innocently. She was appearing on the central visual display on the _Justice's_ flight deck.

"Why?" asked Vila. His well-honed instincts instantly made him suspicious. It sounded very much like he was about to be volunteered for some dangerous task.

"How would you like to rescue a damsel in distress?"

_In the old stories, dragons of some kind were usually involved_, he thought, remembering fairy stories from his childhood which used to scare him. Vila was not fooled for a minute.

"Did Argus put you up to this?" the thief asked. _So he's getting someone else to do his dirty work_, thought Vila.

"No. Argus has been injured. He is out of commission for awhile. He will not be able to help us. That is why we _really_ need you, Vila." Jenna looked very serious and sincere.

_That's not fair_, thought Vila. One damsel in distress, he might be able to resist. But three. All depending on humble Vila. That was almost too irresistable.

Vila had been feeling very uncertain of himself lately. Argus had created a circumstance where the thief had been forced to face his own relationship with alcohol. It did not help that his inner voices had been haunting him; and they sounded like Avon and Argus. It had been weeks, but Vila had still not come to any kind of resolution. He had spent the time bickering with his inner-Avon and inner-Argus. He wanted to feel better about himself, but he had not been able to. And he was feeling isolated and left out.

"Well, if you really need me," said Vila. _I know I'm going to regret this_, thought Vila.

* * *

"Thank you," Avon told Servalan.

"Why do you say that?" Servalan asked.

They were both sitting on her bed at Residence One; Avon was leaning back against the headboard; Servalan was nestled against his shoulder. She would have liked him to place his arm around her but he was not that kind of man.

It was early morning. They had shared another night of passion. This had become a comforting ritual for her; she now sent for him regularly.

Even though their physical relationship was more a shared venture now, Avon was starting to feel very used. Servalan sent for him whenever she had a need. He had no say in the matter. His scheme to cooperate meant that he would not find out what she would do if he ever denied her.

"For this," said Avon, holding up one wrist. A wrist which was normally bruised and marked by abrasians looked almost normal now, except for the scars. No longer having to wear the shackles when he was in his cell had allowed it to heal.

"You're welcome," she said as she took his hand in hers and stroked his wrist lightly, barely touching him. For some reason, the scar tissue made him very sensitive to her touch.

"How did you know that I wanted to work with people again?" he asked.

Now that he had completed work on the anti-detector screen, he had been assigned his next project; a new phase-compression rifle which had been very promising but appeared to have major design flaws. This project was headed by a new team; a team which Servalan had allowed Avon to work with.

"Despite your protests to the contrary, we both know that you are not a cold machine. At least, not always," Servalan told him. "You need to be with people occasionally and I cannot be with you all the time."

He gave a hissed intake of breath as her touch wandered up his arm and across to his chest. Servalan smiled. He would soon be ready for her again.

Avon did not mind when she did this to him. It made it easier to hate her.


	3. Chapter 3

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Three

"I am not an invalid," Argus said angrily. "Stop following me around."

Reya replied, "Yes, you _are_ an invalid. And I will continue to follow you around if you insist on leaving the infirmary before you're ready to."

Argus had just finished checking in with their hand-picked units and discussing strategy with the captains. Now he was on his way to check on the current status of the civil war. He was headed towards the command centre to consult with Borel. Of course, he could have just asked Reya for all of these things, but she was annoying him again by acting overly concerned about his health so he refused to.

Unfortunately his legs chose at that moment to become clumsy and he stumbled and fell. To compound the situation, the wall was not close enough for support and he was in danger of falling flat on his face. Reya had to grab him to prevent him from falling. He cried out in pain. His shoulders were still very painful. He was panting. This was worse than falling flat on his face.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" he asked as she continued to hold him up.

"Enormously," she told him. "Now are you going to behave and go back to the infirmary?"

Argus was now leaning heavily against her, his face was pale and he seemed to have lost all energy. His shoulders were starting to hurt a lot. The painkillers the healer gave him had obviously worn off.

"I don't have much of a choice now, do I? You'll just knock me out and carry me there."

"The thought _had_ crossed my mind," Reya said.

The bickering duo made their way slowly back to the infirmary. It was a good thing too. Argus collapsed just as they reached the infirmary.

* * *

"Do you have any contacts who can help us?" Cally asked Jenna. "Preferably ones who do not want us chained up in a cellar?"

Cally, Jenna, and Vila were aboard the _Justice_, in the command conference area. They were discussing strategies to rescue Kameron Reve's lover, Galena.

"What's this about chains? And a cellar?" asked Vila. He was suddenly very curious.

"It's nothing important," said Jenna.

"Are you sure? You never know what may be important," he told her.

"I'm sure," Jenna replied firmly. She was not about to explain about the two incidents which had ended up with both her and Cally chained up in cellars after trying to meet one of her contacts. Jenna faced Cally and said, "Unfortunately Cally, I don't have any contacts on Ventro."

Ventro was Ellis Reve's base of operations in quadrant nine.

"Are we going in blind then?" the Auron asked.

"We have before," Jenna replied.

"Yes, but that was when we had Blake and Avon with us. We don't even have Argus now."

"We still have ORAC and the _Justice_."

"I would prefer not going in blind, if that's alright with you. I like seeing danger when I meet it," Vila remarked to them. "That way I know which way to run."

"Alright, we will have ORAC do some research for us and see if it can find out anything we can use. And I will go down and see if Delik Gell has any useful contacts there," Jenna told them.

* * *

"I see that Professor Ekron is not with the group yet," Servalan remarked to Sester. They were having a meeting in her private office at Residence One. She was talking about the research team for the phase-compression rifle project that Avon had started working on.

"Not yet, I have scheduled him to arrive in the next session. That way Avon will have no question why the good professor is there."

"As an object lesson, it will be lost on someone like Avon. He has no qualms about using people to further his own goals."

"That is not the kind of lesson I was thinking about," the psychostrategist told her. "It is meant to be a lesson in power. Your power. Let us call it a fair warning."

"I do like that," Servalan said. She liked anything which reinforced or reminded people of her power.

"I thought you might."

"You still think he is up to something?" she asked.

"Don't you?"

"I don't know," the Federation President sounded uncertain.

Sester looked at her with interest. _This is very uncharacteristic of you. And it sounds like you do not want it to be true._

He recognized that he may have done too good a job on the Federation President. Encouraging her attachment to Avon prevented her abusing her power to hurt him. But this level of attachment was not healthy for her. Avon was much too dangerous, as his last conversation session with him had shown.

Sester was aware he may have misjudged these two. The depth of their connection to each other ran deep and warred against their natural impulses. When they were together, it made them very unpredictable.

The psychostrategist was angry with himself. He never made this kind of mistake. In the Federation world, psychostrategists were regarded with a mixture of awe and fear. Sester was considered one of the best; that was why Servalan had brought him in against Avon. He had never worked with two such complex, powerful and relationally volatile individuals as Avon and Servalan before.

Sester realized he would have to be careful with Servalan. She was very capable of having him killed. The Federation President had discovered his manipulation of her. The only reason why she had let it go was because it was something she had never admitted to herself that she wanted until now. But she would be watching him carefully from now on. Just as he was watching Avon carefully.

* * *

Avon was making adjustments to a calculation model on his computer terminal. He was working in the lab. The team of researchers he was working with included Dr. Garitas, a scientist who specialized in phase physics and a military small weapons specialist, Phipps. The two researchers were currently testing a prototype weapon in the test firing range which had been set up in one corner of the lab. The range was enclosed in a clear metallic wall which required palm-scanner access.

The prototype was never taken out of the firing range. There were two Centre guards at the access to the range and Avon was never allowed near it. All of the Centre personal got very excited when he wandered anywhere near the weapons range. Though he had never been punished, the threat was always there.

Avon was only allowed to assist with the calculations and the holographic model.

Avon knew that he was being watched very closely. They were all expecting him to make a move. But the security watchers and his tech minders saw nothing. Everything Avon did was scrutinized carefully and double-checked after he finished in the lab for the day. In addition, Sester reviewed everything.

But they had found nothing. Not even an indication that Avon was testing the system.

Sester instructed them all to keep vigilant. Beating Avon would require patience. The moment their guards were down or their attention wavered for even an instant, that was all Avon needed.

What they did not realize was that Avon did not need to do anything now. His plans had already been carried out. The analyst could afford to cooperate in everything now. He was only waiting for the end result.

The door to the lab opened. A familiar man entered the room. It was Professor Ekron.

* * *

ORAC was still trying to carry out Avon's directives. The almost complete lack of success from its efforts was beginning to form a pattern. If it had been human, it would be developing a persecution complex by now. Not only was it being blocked at every avenue; it seemed that the obstacles it encountered were specifically designed to block its efforts. 


	4. Chapter 4

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Four

Argus opened his eyes. He was back in the infirmary, lying on the bed he had vacated several hours earlier. His whole body felt weak and his mouth was dry. Remembering there was a pitcher of water by his bed, he reached for it. And found that he couldn't.

His right hand was now shackled to the side of the bed. He pulled on the chain without any success.

"If you insist on this stupidity; and refuse to obey the healer's orders to stay until you are well enough to move; then we will help you to stay." Reya was standing on the other side of his bed. She had been waiting for him to wake up.

"Release me right now," he ordered her angrily.

"No. Not until the healer says you can leave." She was like an immovable object in this.

"You cannot hold me here."

"It certainly looks like we can. And if you do not behave, I will restrain your other hand as well," she threatened. "There will also be a guard posted at the door," she added. "And if that is still not enough, I will make sure you are sedated as well."

Argus wanted to say something but refrained. He knew that she was very capable of doing what she threatened.

"Nothing to say? Good. Now get some rest," she told him.

An outraged Argus she could handle. It meant he was recovering. He had really scared her earlier when he had collapsed.

"Can I at least get some water?" he asked.

"Of course, you only have to ask." She said pleasantly. He scowled at her. Reya filled a glass from the pitcher of water and handed it to him.

His hand was visibly shaking as he took the glass. He almost dropped it.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked as Reya took the glass from him and held it for him to drink.

"Your little stunt before put too much of a strain on your system. You've set back your own recovery."

Argus frowned and took a drink from the glass. He lay back on the bed. He felt exhausted. "I hate being like this," Argus told her as he closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep.

"I know. Now get some rest," she said softly. Reya knew how he felt. She had always hated the feeling of being helpless when her own body was not cooperating.

* * *

"Now why would anyone in their right minds want to go to Ventro," Delik Gell wanted to know. "Unless you're one of Ellis's people."

Jenna was meeting Delik in his music shop again. The shop held many interesting items. It seemed to specialize in numerous types of sonic wave manipulators in varying shapes and colours. Delik Gell was one of Jenna's many criminal contacts. He specialized in the selling of information; and he was a charming rogue and a perpetual ladies man.

"Or one of Ellis's enemies," Jenna told him.

"I see," said Delik, not really seeing. He still did not understand why anyone would want to commit suicide in such a faraway place.

"Well, do you have any resources there which could help us?"

"Aren't you afraid that I will sell you out to Ellis?" asked Delik.

"Not as long as I hold those incriminating holovids of you with the governor's wife."

"Now Jenna…" said Delik in his silky and most persuasive voice.

"Forget it Delik."

He sighed.

"I do have one possible source. But you might not like it," said Delik.

"As long as he can get us the information we need, I wouldn't even mind wearing one of those skimpy outfits you had Cally wearing."

Delik smiled. Jenna wanted to hit him with a rolling pin.

* * *

Avon re-entered Servalan's bedroom after taking a shower. It was early morning. Servalan always allowed him to stay with her until morning now. They would share a breakfast together before he was returned to the Special Detention Centre for the work day. It was almost domestic.

A delicious breakfast was laid out on the table.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Avon.

"I am hungry," replied Servalan. "I thought you might be too."

"That's not what I meant."

Servalan knew exactly what he had meant but she chose not to answer him.

"You do not need to know the reason for a breakfast in order to enjoy it."

"Most people don't. I do."

Servalan smiled. He would always be an analyst; he had an incessant need to understand everything. She knew that it bothered him that he did not know her true intentions. It made him nervous that she was being pleasant to him.

She did not want him to know the truth; that this pretense of domesticity was more than she ever had, or would ever have. She knew it was a silly dream but sometimes even Federation President's needed to indulge in silly dreams. As long as it did not interfere with the acquisition of power.

"Does that mean that you won't eat it?" she asked.

"I take that to mean that you are not going to answer my question?"

"No."

"Then I will eat it. But I will not enjoy it."

* * *

"Do you have the new numbers yet?" asked Dr. Garitas. Avon was back in the lab working on the phase-compression rifle project.

"Give me a few more minutes," Avon told him. Garitas was always impatient. He regarded the analyst more as a personal assistant than a valuable resource. The man still did not understand Avon's value. The doctor did not understand why it was necessary to do his research here rather than his own comfortable lab back at the Federation Central Research Facility. He had not liked being ordered to report here.

At first the analyst had been puzzled by the inclusion of Professor Ekron in this project. Ekron's area of expertise was advanced propulsion theory. Avon soon found out why he had been included. It had nothing to do with the research.

It became very apparent that Professor Ekron had had his memory of his previous visits to the lab erased. Ekron had no recollection of ever having met this nameless but brilliant prisoner. Avon wondered how far the memory erase extended. He guessed that the others had also shared the same fate.

"Well?" Garitas asked again. He was looking over the prisoner's shoulder as he worked on the calculation stream. Avon never liked people looking over his shoulder but here at the Special Detention Centre, there was always someone monitoring his work.

"Here," Avon sent the new calculation model to the holographic display.

"Are you sure it is supposed to work this way?" Dr. Garitas asked.

The man was a fool. Avon had just made a huge breakthrough for him by solving one of the major design flaws. Garitas was an imaginative researcher but he did not have the courage to start over again when it appeared that his own work was wrong. Avon did not have that problem.

"I see what he has done," Professor Ekron suddenly spoke up. "You have applied the energy compression model of propulsion theory to that of the rifle?"

Avon nodded. The inclusion of Professor Ekron had given him a flash of inspiration. The two applications were completely different but the compression theory itself was very similar. He had adapted one to fit the other and his models had indicated that it might work.

Ekron did not understand but he felt an instant rapport with the nameless prisoner, even though they had never met before. Even though the analyst had not explained, Ekron had immediately understood where the prisoner's mind had been going.

"Just try it," suggested Ekron.

Dr. Garitas reluctantly headed to the test firing range in order to make the new adjustments to the prototype weapon with the engineer.

The tests were a great success. By the end of the day, Garitas understood the value of the nameless prisoner.

* * *

"I want to make sure Argus gets out," Reya told her brother the moment she entered his office just off the command centre. Since her contact with Jenna Stannis, she had been having this thought. She wanted Argus to be safe. In his condition, he would not be able to help them and he would not be able to defend himself.

The conflict with Ellis was reaching a critical point. Both forces were poised to strike. Borel and Reya knew that they only had a slim chance.

From Ellis's actions the past few months, they knew that he was determined to destroy them, regardless of whether they were his brother and sister. He would give them no mercy.

Borel and Ellis were closer in age and had once been close; many years ago. They had often teamed up to annoy their older brother when they were young. But once they were old enough to understand that one of them would one day become Overlord, the relationship had changed between the brothers. This had been encouraged by their father; who thought that they would become stronger through competition. Ellis and Kameron had changed the most. Borel still loved his brother, but he soon learned that he could never turn his back on him.

Borel's forces were fiercely loyal to him and would stand by him until the very end. He was never one to give up; that was one thing they loved about him. He never gave up and he never gave up on them.

The young general was a brilliant military tactician who had faced overwhelming odds in the past in defending the Athol border against marauders. He always won. But he would need extraordinary luck as well as his exceptional tactical skills in order to win against the overwhelming odds they faced.

Borel did not understand how Ellis could have become so powerful. He knew that part of the reason was because of the inaction of his brother Kameron. This also the young general did not understand. Becoming Overlord had been Kam's overriding goal in life. It overshadowed everything else; but for some reason, his older brother's forces had been dormant for months; freeing Ellis to bring the full weight of his forces against Borel.

But that did not explain all of it. There was something very strange about how powerful Ellis had become. Borel could not expend energy to think about this mystery.

"What did you say?" asked Borel as he returned from his reveries.

"I want to put Argus on the next available transport to Athol Prime. I want to get him into neutral space."

"He's not going to like that," said Borel.

"I don't care what he likes," said Reya. "He's going even if I have to have him sedated and I carry him on the transport myself."

Borel regarded his sister with interest. The relationship between Reya and Argus was a constantly changing exercise in frustration and attraction. Their constant bickering had been a source of amusement for him. Everytime he saw them after they had gone on a mission together, their relationship seemed to change. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse; but the fireworks were always there.

He knew that this new idea of her sister's was bound to cause trouble. And not the kind of minor trouble which could blow over in a few hours. Borel sighed. He would not interfere. He had too many important things to attend to, like trying to save them all from total destruction.


	5. Chapter 5

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Five

Reya headed towards the infirmary after confirming her plans. She had already instructed healer Garett to administer a sedative to the still sleeping rebel leader. The determined woman wanted to personally oversee his transfer.

When she approached the infirmary, it was obvious that something was wrong. There seemed to be a lot of commotion coming from the room.

Reya entered in time to see two guards tackle Argus from behind. The rebel leader had managed to get up and was standing by the side of the bed even though his hand was still shackled to the railing. He had been determinedly fending off any infirmary personnel who approached him. One of the healer's assistants was on the ground and was being attended by others. He had been the person unfortunate enough to have been charged with sedating the supposedly sleeping man.

Argus turned around in time to see the guards and tried to avoid them but being shackled made it impossible. All three fell heavily over the railing of the bed. Argus cried out in pain as his shoulders impacted the bed.

"Don't hurt him," healer Garett told the guards even as Argus struggled to get free. Garett approached with the injector.

Reya watched the scene with horror. She had been the one to give the order that Argus be sedated, but she had never intended this.

Argus groaned as one of the guards twisted one of his arms behind him; finally immobilizing him. But he still continued to fight with them even though each movement now caused him pain. They could barely hold him still.

Reya recognized that though she insulted him and generally gave him a hard time, Argus stayed because he wanted to stay. Theirs was a strange and difficult relationship but neither had ever forced the other to do anything they did not want to do. Even though she had him restrained it was only because he was hurting himself. Though he did not like it, he had accepted it.

But Reya realized that they were doing now made her no better than those who had tortured him. This made her ill.

Healer Garett placed the injector on Argus's arm, preparing to give him the sedative.

Reya grabbed Garett's hand. "No," she told him firmly. To the guards she said, "Let him go. Now."

The two guards obeyed and let go of Argus's arms. They got up from the bed.

"Leave us. All of you," she told them.

Everyone filed out. Just as he left, Garett handed another bio-injector to Reya and said discreetly to her, "Get him to take this if you can, it's a painkiller."

Reya nodded and took the injector.

After they left, she sat down on chair next to the bed and waited quietly. She didn't dare touch Argus even though he was still faced down on the bed. After a few moments, as his breathing calmed down, Argus slowly rolled himself into a less painful position; and sat up and looked at her.

"This was your doing, wasn't it?" he accused her. There was a cold anger in his voice.

"I'm sorry," she said in a subdued voice. "I never meant them to do that to you."

"What did you think was going to happen when I found out what you were planning to do?" he asked her.

"You weren't supposed to find out."

"Until it was too late? Did you really think that would have been any better?"

"It would have kept you safe," she tried to defend herself. Her voice was quiet.

"You wanted to take away my choice," he accused her. "Because you wanted to feel better. Even though we don't ever do anything other than fight, I thought that at least we respected each other; that we would never force our wills on each other. I thought we had at least that. I guess I was wrong." He sounded very disappointed and added "I think your brother is the only one who can stand you."

"Don't say that, Argus," Reya said quietly. "I made a mistake. I will never do it again."

"Don't make that promise to me," Argus told her. His voice was still cold.

"Why do you want to stay?" she asked him quietly.

Even though he was still very angry at her, he saw that she was devastated by what she had tried to do to him. But he couldn't answer her.

"It can't be for me. You can't even stand me," she said.

He grasped her idea and fed it back to her.

"No. It's not for you. I do not like leaving something I have started. I am committed to Borel. I will not let him down and I will not abandon him," Argus told her. He almost kicked himself. _Why did I just say that?_

"Of course," she accepted.

This made him angry. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Why aren't you questioning me? Do you have so little respect for me now that you don't even question me anymore?"

"It's not you that I don't respect." Her voice was still quiet. "It's me."

Argus could not stay angry with her; not when she was like this.

"I will stay. Because you want me to go," he told her.

"And you're going to give me an even harder time now. Because of this?" she asked.

"Someone has to."

"I suppose I deserve that. I want to give you this," she held out the injector Healer Garett had given to her. "It's just a painkiller."

Until she had just mentioned it, Argus had not noticed how painful his shoulders were from the assault by the two guards. The adrenaline was wearing off and he was starting to feel it.

"There is no reason you should trust me. I am willing to inject myself with it first," she offered.

"I do trust you, Reya; at least your intentions. Just not your methods." His voice was no longer cold. "We will work together to help Borel. And you can give me the injection."

"Can you try not hurting the infirmary personnel? I think they're afraid of you now. This is the second time you've knocked one of them out," she told him as she injected him with the painkiller.

* * *

Working with a team again gave Avon what he needed; his plans had already been carried out without lifting a finger. He now only needed to wait. The analyst decided his next task was to make it as easy as possible for the crew to rescue him. To do this he needed to persuade his two foes, and especially Servalan, to continue giving him more freedoms.

There was also another, less practical reason; he found that he needed to understand Servalan. When they were together, he saw different sides of her. She was still the same controlling, power hungry Federation President; but with him, she also revealed hidden depths.

_Am I seeing what Tarrant saw in you?_ he wondered. He remembered telling Tarrant that Servalan was nothing more than a greedy gangster back when she used them to obtain ten billion credits worth of gold. Avon still smarted at that memory of how she had outmanoeuvred him. And she had obviously used the wealth to leverage herself back into a position of power. He had thought Tarrant a fool then.

It did not make things different between him and his enemy; but he still needed to understand. He was never a man to let a mystery go and she had become a mystery to him.

* * *

"Myler Reve? That's your source?" asked Jenna. Her voice clearly indicated that she did not like this news.

"I told you that you weren't going to like it," Delik answered. They were both at the back of his music shop again. "He's the only I know who can help you."

"I think I would prefer wearing a skimpy outfit," said Jenna. She was not forgetting that she had threatened Myler Reve and his wife; and told them to leave the Athol Territories and never to return. "I don't suppose you have incriminating holovids of him?" Jenna joked.

"No. Speaking of holovids used for blackmail purposes, I don't suppose you would consider giving me the ones you have of me with the governor's wife?"

"Not yet. We're still not even. Find me a way to influence Myler Reve to help us, and I may reconsider. Agreed?"

"It's going to be difficult. He's going to want something in return," Delik said.

"I am aware of that," Jenna told him. "See what you can do. I have every confidence in you, Delik. Don't let me down."

Delik Gell may have been a chronic ladies man and a rogue but his business was information, or rather the obtaining of it. He was very good.

"I wish you had more than just that," sighed Delik. "Very well, I'll try. But you have to be prepared to pay a price."

"I am willing to accept anything within reason," said Jenna. "Returning to Athol is not one of them."

"You just made it much harder," said Delik.

"That is my condition," Jenna said; she was not budging. She would not agree to anything which would bring the dead Overlord's overly ambitious brother back into the fray. Things were already complicated enough.

* * *

It was late afternoon. Sester sat across from the Federation President in the gardens of Residence One. She had asked him to join her for tea while he gave his report.

"You are sure?"

"Definitely. Although I have no proof. Avon is much too cooperative at the moment. He is trying to lull us into a sense of security. But you know him. It is impossible that he is not planning something. He only needs the opportunity. We must not give him that opportunity."

"What do you propose?" Even Servalan did not want to hurt Avon again, it was even more important that she not lose him. She also realized that she had allowed herself to become vulnerable. This was something she could never let happen.

"He has been allowed to become much too strong. We must disable him again."

"You are putting him back into the isolation cell?"

"No. We did agree that we would not use torture on him as long as he cooperates."

"And disabling him would not count as torture?"

"There are many ways to disable without resorting to torture. Increasing the level of drugs again will work just as well."

"So would a session with the interrogators." _I am sorry, Avon. But I have no choice. I promised myself that would never be this exposed again._

Sester looked at her and smiled. "I should not have worried."

"You were concerned that I was being too soft on Avon? And that I would not agree?"

"Yes," admitted the psychostrategist. "But I should have known better. Your self-interest always comes first."

"How could you have doubted it? I want to give him a session in the nerve induction unit as well." _You also need a reminder how cruel I can be_._ This session in the Shredder will be educational for both of you_, thought Servalan. She had not forgotten how the psychostrategist had tried to manipulate her.

"We don't need to do that," Sester told her.

"We know he has been abusing the guidelines. Even though we have no proof. He must be reminded that we are the ones in control. We know him. That is all we require. This will be a reminder for him. It is not a return to the earlier protocols. I will tell him that when you send him to me after the session in the chamber."

"That will work. Have I said lately how good you are?"

"Not often enough." Servalan smiled. "I also want the drugs increased as well."

"Very well. I will communicate your orders to the Centre controllers." _The two of you really are unpredictable. The normal psychostrategy methods seemed to be inadequate when dealing with the two of you._

"Now tell me what has been happening in Sector Ten."

* * *

A pattern was forming.

ORAC was beginning to realize this. There was no reason why every one of its efforts had been successfully blocked. Except one. Someone knew the computer unit's capabilities and had the ability to block it. ORAC only knew of one human who could do that, Avon.

ORAC surmised that it must have something to do with the strange conditions Avon had given to it the last time he was onboard. Avon must be in some kind of trouble; something which had forced him to take these measures. Somehow he had found it necessary to devise the ingenius ways to block the very efforts; he had asked ORAC to make in the first place.

But Avon, despite being bright for his species, only understood a small fraction of what ORAC was capable of. ORAC decided to change its strategy. First it had to determine how much Avon knew about how it functioned and second if all it had to beat Avon.

There was also another possibility. Avon would have found a way for ORAC to complete the directives he had given it, despite the handicaps. It was a possibility. ORAC began to refocus it's efforts to these two areas.


	6. Chapter 6

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Six

Avon lay on the floor of the interrogation room with his hands restrained behind him. The medtech was tending to him because he had started coughing blood again. It had been six hours of being beaten and it did not seem as if they were done with him yet.

The guards had come for him in the early morning after his normal routine. They had not told him where they were taking him. He had assumed that they were headed towards the lab as usual.

Avon groaned as the medtech fused one of his broken bones. It was a painful procedure. As the interrogators worked on him, Avon kept asking himself what he had done to make Servalan do this. He was still cooperating fully. There had been no other changes.

_Could they have found out? _he wondered. _But that's not possible, not unless they knew what to look for. _Sester might be able to guess; but if he had they would not just be doing this.

When the medtech was done, an interrogator uncuffed his hands. The zipper of his prison coveralls was pulled down and he was stripped down to the waist. Chains were lowered from the ceiling and attached to his wrists by metal cuffs. They pulled him up until his feet no longer touched the ground. His feet were secured by chains to a bolt which now protruding from the floor.

One of the interrogators brought out a burn wire. This was a thin strong wire with a handle on one end. When activated, it burned red hot. Servalan had used it on him before.

The interrogator applied the red hot wire to Avon's back. He cried out in pain as the wire burned into his flesh. It sizzled and there was a smell of burnt flesh. He groaned and tried to arch away from the continued pain but there was no escaping it. The wire was kept in contact with his body, continuing to sear his flesh. Avon's body twisted; desperately trying to relieve the pain but it was no use. When the wire was finally removed, it tore the skin; causing even more agonies. Avon cried out in pain again. The blood began to flow down his body. He knew he was in for a long night as the wire was applied repeatedly to different parts of his body.

Little did he know it was going to get even worse.

It had been weeks since he experienced this much pain. Not since the new guidelines instituted by the psychostrategist.

_Has something changed? _He knew that it could not be an effort to force information from him; especially since the interrogators were not even bothering to ask him any questions. The isolation cell was a much more effective method.

Servalan seemed to have been different lately. But with this, she appeared to be returning to form.

_Was this all part of the illusion as I suspected?_ He wondered. _At least this is not a mystery.

* * *

_

After they were finished with him, the unconscious Avon was brought to the medical wing. The medical personnel used the healing tank to stop the bleeding and tended to the burns. Everywhere his body contacted a surface there was considerable pain. Then they pumped him full of restoratives, replenished the lost blood and allowed him some rest to ready him for the following session.

The next one was the last and the worst. He was given a full session in the nerve induction unit. By the end, he was so weak that he was passing out constantly from the pain.

When the ordeal finally ended, they sent him back to the medical wing for more patching up before he was delivered to Servalan at Residence One. The guards who accompanied him did not understand why the unconscious man was being brought to the Federation President. He was so traumatized by the session in the Shredder that he was barely functional and could only manage the occasional whimper. But it was not their place to question the orders or whims of their superiors.

* * *

Jenna met with Olean Rane in his quarters at the Athol Palace. The chamberlain was looking tired and strained. Ellis Reve had become increasingly difficult. He seemed to want to provoke a direct confrontation. It took all of Rane's diplomatic skills to remain neutral.

"As much as I would like to move directly against Ellis, I can't," said Rane.

"You may not have much of a choice, old soldier," said Jenna. "Ellis seems determined to draw you out."

Rane sighed tiredly. He stretched tense and aching muscles. "Until that day comes. I will continue to try to protect our people," he told her, "I am getting very tired of this. They play their political games but they forget that it's the people who suffer. Sometimes I wonder what will happen when one of them finally does win. Will things finally settle down? Will things be better for our people?"

Jenna nodded her head in understanding. "When did you become more than just a soldier?" she asked. The ex-smuggler always had a great deal of respect for Rane and through this conflict, she had even more.

"Necessity. Nothing more," said Rane.

"Of Kam and Borel, who would make the best Overlord?" she asked.

"Of the three, Borel is the least interested; even though he is in this conflict. He's happiest being a soldier and defending the border. I think he's really only in this because his father believed in his potential," said Rane. "Kameron is ruthless but he is responsible and will not abuse his power. Ellis only wants power. Whichever way he can get it. He is ruthless too but has no mercy. The ideal situation would be if Kameron became Overlord and Borel helped him"

"Do you think they will work together?" Jenna asked.

"They may unite against Ellis. That might be enough for them to form an alliance. And Borel would probably defer to his brother if they win."

Jenna nodded thoughtfully. This tallied with her own assessment as well.

"Who is this woman, Galena that Kam is involved with?" asked Jenna.

"I don't know much about her, myself. She appeared on the scene after I left on a mission out to the border for Feltar. But it appears that Kam became very serious about her. And Ellis also developed an interest in her afterwards. I am not sure what happened but I know that Feltar became very angry and threatened them both. Then Feltar died and I had to come back. By then there were more pressing matters and it was not mentioned."

"Did you meet her?"

"No. But she must have been quite a woman. Kam fell for her in a matter of weeks. Some say that he changed a lot after he met her. Hopefully it was for the better."

"Well, no matter what kind of woman she is. We need to get her out from Ellis's control otherwise Kam will not move."

"He still insists on this condition?" Rane asked.

"Yes. He refuses to budge even though I told him we are trying. He will not risk her life."

"But he will risk Borel's and his sister's?"

_And Argus's_ Jenna added to herself. She was still worried about the rebel leader after the message from Reya Reve that he had been injured and tortured.

"It does make me wonder what kind of woman she really is," said Jenna.

"How is Argus doing?" Rane asked. He knew that Jenna was very concerned about the rebel leader.

"I haven't had an update on his condition since Reya contacted me," Jenna replied. "But she said that the healers are able to treat him."

"She would have said something if his life was in danger," Rane reassured her.

"Hopefully he's fine," said Jenna. "We could have used his help. He's much better at these kinds of operations than I am."

"I will give whatever assistance I can," said Rane. "In the meantime, you should get some rest."

"Speak for yourself, old soldier," Jenna told him. "You look like you haven't slept in days. And when was the last time you shaved?"

"You're getting to be as bad as Lelea," complained Rane with a wry smile.

* * *

Psychostrategists Tace, Lambrin and Vorshell met with senior psychostrategist Sester aboard his personal observer craft. They were all sharing an excellent meal and a fine wine, from Servalan's private stock.

"Excellent hospitality as usual, Sester," said Tace.

"And what strategy got you this?" asked Lambrin, lifting the glass of the particularly fine wine. Lambrin had very discerning taste when it came to food and drink. He was a heavy set man who looked, unfortunately more like an old fashioned gangster than the refined psychostrategist that he was. He was also an old friend of Sester's.

"We probably don't want to know," said Vorshell. Of the three, he was the tallest, the youngest and the most cynical.

All three psychostrategists knew that Sester was under personal commission to the Federation President and reported to her directly; and he never revealed what he did for her that had been taking up most of his time the last few years.

"You're right," said Sester. For a moment, Sester thought about the analyst suffering back at the Special Detention Centre. He sighed. It served no useful purpose dwelling on it.

Sester refocused all their attention. "What has been going on here since your last report?" he asked them.

"You'll find this interesting," said Lambrin. He activated the monitor sitting on the table and brought up a starfield view. The focus zoomed in close to the Athol moon and clearly visible, very close to the surface, was a large ship.

"I've always appreciated your definition of interesting," said Sester. The ship was the _Justice_.

* * *

"Have any of our undercover agents found anything about the unknown force yet?" asked Sester.

"Still nothing," reported Tace.

"It is disturbing that there is such a complete lack of any information," said Lambrin. He had very good instincts about danger. "We should at least be able to map it by now. At least it's possible threads."

"Are the commando units still busy disrupting Ellis?" Sester asked.

"Yes, they are much happier now that they have something to do," Vorshell said. "They were getting bored sitting out by the edge of the system just waiting."

Sester said. "Alright, we will wait until they are done. But in the meantime, we can plot a new strategy and flush out this new force. And with the addition of the _Justice_, things get even more interesting. We may even be able to use them."

They all smiled.

Sester had a thought. "The man the commando unit captured, what was his name?"

"Kolter," replied Tace.

"Could it have been an alias?"

"I assumed it was," said Tace.

"Did we try to find out what his real name was?" asked Sester.

"No. We were more interested in who he was working for," Tace replied. "Why?"

"With the _Justice_ here and with the abilities of the people who have been disrupting Ellis, I think I know who your prisoner was. Servalan will not like it that we let him go."

"Who is it," asked Vorshell.

"Drel Argus. He's has a high price on his head and is wanted for some information very valuable to Central Security and the Federation President."

"We can have him pulled in," said Lambrin. "He does have a tracer on him now."

"No leave him there for now. He is more useful where he is. And as you said, we can pull him in at any time. I will explain to the President."

* * *

Avon was shivering and barely conscious. His mind was still not back from wherever it retreated to when recovering from the after effects of the nerve induction unit. His arms were wrapped tightly around the Federation President as his head rested in the crook of her arm. His body was pressed tightly against hers. It was an involuntary reaction; seeking comfort and security after the trauma.

The guards had delivered him from the Special Detention Centre after the med unit had tended to his physical injuries after his session in the Shredder.

Servalan doubted if he even knew who he was holding onto. He would not have reacted well if he knew. She had been told that it would be at least another day before he was conscious enough to know who she was.

She stroked his head, trying to soothe him as he started whimpering in pain again and held her even tighter. Servalan knew that there were residual pain effects from the unit which only faded with time. When the bout ended, he was shaking badly again and was breathing heavily.

Servalan had never witnessed someone recovering from the effects of the nerve induction unit before; had never seen how helpless they were and how traumatized. And they had done this to Avon many times in the past few years.

Part of her wanted to stop hurting him; but not enough of her. As she held him, she felt safe. She realized that like this, she cared about him even though she could never trust him. There was a tenderness she could afford when he was controlled. But she also wanted an Avon who could fight her, whose brilliance delighted her, whose dangerous nature excited her and whose resistance gave her a challenge; a man who was her match.

It was tearing her apart that the dreams she had given up when she had taken power as a lover were as close as the man lying in her arms; but it was also the characteristics she valued in him which meant that it could never be. He was much too dangerous.

_What are you doing to me, Avon? And what am I doing to you?_


	7. Chapter 7

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Seven

"I don't feel comfortable asking you to help," Borel said to Argus. _And besides, my sister would kill me if I did._ "You still haven't recovered yet."

The young general was in his room packing as he prepared to leave on his flag ship which was now in orbit. Borel could have had a batman do this kind of work but he preferred doing it himself. And he had sent his attendant to check on some things for him. He was putting the last items in his personal case when Argus arrived wishing to speak with him. Reya was following right behind him.

"You're starting to sound like you're sister," Argus told him. Reya was standing next to the rebel leader now. "And she's already starting to annoy me again."

"What do you mean starting to annoy you? You've been acting annoyed since we left the infirmary and that was almost week ago," said Reya. "Or is this some clever plan to continue making me pay for my error in judgement?"

"There is no fooling you is there?" Argus replied sarcastically.

"Now who is annoying who?" she asked.

Argus tried to hide a smile. He loved getting a rise out of her. She had done it enough times to him in the past. The tables had turned since the incident in the infirmary; the rebel leader had been giving her a very hard time since then and she had been taking it meekly. But he knew that she was reaching the end of her tolerance.

Argus enjoyed her fire and missed it. He had been wondering when it would come back. It appeared that it had finally returned.

Borel also tried not to smile. Not many people could get the better of his sister. It appeared that Argus could; because his sister let him.

Noticing their concerted but ineffective efforts not to laugh, Reya was really starting to get annoyed.

"If you both insist on laughing, can you do it now so that we can get on with more important things?"

This sent both two men laughing uproariously. When their laughter finally died down and they were able to regain control of themselves, Argus apologized.

"I'm sorry, Reya. But I have been waiting for you to finally be yourself again," said Argus.

"I see," she said acidly. For some reason her tone of voice sent them both laughing again.

"And you couldn't just tell me? You just had to see how far you could aggravate me?" Reya asked, sounding very irritated.

"Well, you did say that you deserved it," Argus tried to defend himself but the grin on his face removed any seriousness he was trying to achieve.

"So this was to make _me_ feel better?"

"Yes. And I must admit I enjoyed myself as well."

Reya gave him a stare that could have melted ice if her eyes had been lasers.

"And what's your excuse, little brother?" she asked Borel. The young general knew that she only called him that when she was very annoyed with him.

"I could tell you, but I like all of my vital parts to stay where they are," he told her.

She regarded them with a hard stare. They both looked at her sheepishly.

"You're right, Reya. We should get back to business," Argus said placatingly.

"Where were we?" Borel asked Argus.

Argus replied with his idea, "I think we can help by disrupting your brother's operations. I can draw up some plans to disable his communications and disrupt his supply channels. I would also like to put some of his repair and refit docks out of commission."

"I can't spare any resources," said Borel.

"You don't need to. All I need are the units you assigned to us."

"But that is hardly enough. You only have three ships."

"It isn't enough if you're thinking in terms of a major military operation. But remember, I operated as a commando. For infiltration, the fewer people you have the better."

"From what the healer reports on your condition, that sounds much too active for what you are capable of right now, Argus," Reya said in a firm voice.

When Reya wasn't attending to her duties, she had been following Argus around since he left the infirmary. She was determined to save him from himself. This new plan of his sounded much too dangerous for someone in his condition.

"I really wish you would stop talking about 'my condition' as if I'm an invalid," Argus told her. "I'm fine."

Just as Reya had been determined to keep an eye on him the past week. He had been just as determined to escape her attentions. But she seemed to be able to find him wherever he was. He suspected she was having her security people keep an eye on him.

Like his sister, Borel was not about to let Argus do something to hurt himself either. He said, "Reya is right. Your condition requires that you take a much less active role."

Argus turned to the young general with a look that said 'not you too.' He realized that it was their turn to gang up on him. Both brother and sister would not budge. They would not allow him to go out on a mission.

"I know you don't like being left out of the action," said Reya. "What if you plan and supervise and I will lead our units in?"

"You know the answer to that," said Argus.

"Yes, I know that you would rather die than have me enjoy all the fun while you watch," said Reya. "But it's either that or you get left behind. Well what's it going to be?"

"You haven't left me much of a choice have you?" he said grudgingly. "But I will only agree if you let me supervise from one of the ships."

"Very well." _And if you don't stay on the ship, I will chain you to the flight deck_, thought Reya.

_This is going to be very interesting_, thought Borel. He knew that neither one of them took well to sitting on the sidelines.

_And if you think you are keeping me out of this for long, you are sadly mistaken_, thought Argus.

* * *

Avon regained consciousness slowly. His mind did not want to wake up but something was not giving him a choice. Thought was sluggish; concentration was tenuous. Avon fought to regain control. As coherence returned, he recognized what was happening. It was the familiar sensations which were the result of the nerve induction unit. With this realization, memory began to return.

With the memory also came awareness of his own body. Every inch of him seemed to be experiencing pain of some kind. Avon groaned. He tried to move but the movement caused even more pain.

"Don't move Avon. You'll hurt yourself."

A familiar voice. A hated voice. He opened his eyes. His vision was blurry but he could make out her form beside the bed. They appeared to be in her bedroom.

"Servalan," he tried to say her name but there was pain in his throat and he only managed a hoarse and barely discernible sound.

"Don't try to say anything." She reached forward with a bio-injector. Avon tried to move away but only ended up hurting himself more. He groaned in pain.

"I told you not to move," she told him. "This is only a pain blocker. Nothing more," she reassured him. He stopped resisting and she gave him the injection.

She continued talking to him. "The doctor said that you should be waking up so I gave you a stimulant before." Servalan sat beside him on the bed and looked down at him.

"You must be wondering why we had this done to you," she told him.

_You are a dangerous snake. I do not need to know more than that_, thought Avon. _Not about you. _Part of him was angry that he had entertained any other thought about her.

"It was a mistake for you to cooperate so fully, Avon. It told us that you were up to something," Servalan told him. _If Sester had not also been playing his manipulation games, I would not have become suspicious of what you were doing._

The Federation President refused to admit to herself that things had changed between them; that the manipulations had produced results. But they did not override her natural instincts. Survival always came first; as it did with him. For her power equalled survival.

"I did warn you that if you broke the rules, there would be no mercy," Servalan told him.

Avon tried to speak but his throat was not cooperating. He still only managed a strangled sound but the anger was clearly in his eyes.

"I know what you want to say," she said. "That we don't have any proof that you have done anything. But we don't require any, Avon; we only need the suspicion. That is the advantage of having power; we define the conditions."

_So that is the end to the guidelines which were meant to protect me from you? _thought Avon.

"I know what you will say next. That the guidelines which Sester implemented meant nothing."

It was almost as if she could read his mind. _But you knew I would be thinking that from the beginning_, he thought.

"That is not true," stressed Servalan. "This is not a return to the previous protocols. It is only a reinforcement that even with the new conditions, we will not accept disobedience of any kind. In fact, because of the new freedoms we are allowing you, the punishment will be even harsher. We will not allow you to abuse them in any way."

_It sounds as if you are only surmising; you do not really know,_ Avon thought. _That is good. The torture I can take. At least the hope is intact._

Even a cold logical mind needed hope.

Avon closed his eyes and tried to rest. The brief moment of consciousness had exhausted him. The pain blocker was beginning to work.

He had one last thought before he fell asleep. _You would never have removed the pain before. Odd._

Servalan knew that Avon's recovery was still only partial. It had been important that he regain consciousness; it had helped his mind to reestablish itself. But now he needed more rest. She touched his face briefly, caressing it; then she changed the mix on the bio-injector and gave him the drugs which would allow him a sleep without nightmares.

Servalan watched him as he slept. Sleep smoothed the lines on his face; he looked peaceful. She wished he would wake up and talk to her; she missed his unforgiving humour and sharp insights which did not conform to anyone else's opinions.

_It would have been a wonderful dream, Avon. But for people like us, it will always be nothing more than a dream._

She gently put her arms around him and also slept.

* * *

Although ORAC frequently sounded annoyed, it was a computer and computers were not burdened with such weaknesses as human emotions. So to say that it was very annoyed right now would be an inaccurate statement.

ORAC had just developed a new strategy to find the antidote to the virus. Since the security system at the techno-virus research station seemed to have been designed specifically to defeat it, it needed to seek the solution elsewhere.

As well, it had decided that it required a tool which was not based on ORAC's design. ORAC needed to develop a seeker program built along different lines.

Naturally, the moment it had settled this new course of action, a surprise arrived. This surprise was in the form of an Advanced Security Program, like the ones used by Federation Central Security, communicating on ORAC's command frequency and invoking the command code. It had contained additional coded instructions from Avon.

If ORAC had been asked, it would have conveyed that it was a waste of its time to develop a new strategy when Avon had already come up with the same one. It intended to communicate this the next time it spoke to the analyst. In very forceful terms. Of course the fact that Avon had come upon this solution before it did, had no influence on this decision.

ORAC had the Zen computer store the ASP in its memory core for further study. As it explored its code, ORAC had to grudgingly admit that it had been a brilliant piece of programming. It was not really an ASP, at least not anymore. It was a highly sophisticated seeker program and had one purpose; to find the antidote to the techno-virus.

The modified ASP also contained multiple levels of security protocols to protect it from being trapped or read. Avon had only built in an access path for ORAC and one for himself. It also appeared to have been designed to bypass some of the new Federation Security protocols. One of the reasons ORAC had been unable to penetrate the security was because everything it did left a trace. It had not been like that before. This ASP had no such problems.

Avon had also left instructions for the ASP to avoid the research station. There was no explanation. ORAC surmised that Avon knew things about the security at the station which indicated that it was too dangerous a target.

ORAC added a few lines of programming and then had Zen release the ASP to its work. ORAC already had an idea of where it needed to look for the information on the virus.


	8. Chapter 8

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Eight

Argus was waiting. He hated waiting. He had always been of the opinion that leaders, who waited while their men went on missions, were inadequate leaders.

The rebel leader was feeling very useless on the flight deck while Reya and one of their units were infiltrating a huge repair dock. They wore environment suits and were planting explosives at key points along the outer hull. When the charges exploded, the entire facility should break apart like a child's toy.

The rebel leader was out of sorts. Repeated efforts to join the action units had been thwarted by a very determined Reya. She had even threatened to have him chained to the flight deck during one mission.

Argus was waiting on the smallest of their fast pursuit ships. By reducing their energy signature to almost nothing, they had been able to attach the ship to a passing transport which had limited sensor capability; using the tractor beam. The pursuit ship was now discreetly parked on a quiet and shadowed surface of the station. They were waiting for Reya and the E.V.A. teams to come back.

"Team one reporting. Last charge planted. We are returning now."

Argus recognized Reya's voice even though it sounded metallic over the comm system.

Each of the other teams reported in. They were now all headed back.

The rebel leader used the ship's intercom system to inform the crew waiting to receive them at the entrance hatch, "Prepare to receive E.V.A. teams."

"Sir," one of the flight deck crew called his attention and pointed to the screen showing the outside view. A ship was entering into the path of two of the returning teams. Argus had already seen them.

He pressed the comm, "Team one and three, stand down. Do not advance. Take cover as best you can until further notice."

The two teams acknowledged.

"What's going on Argus?" Reya's tinny voice sounded over the speaker.

"Not now, Reya. Just wait." Argus knew she would hate being told that without being given an explanation.

The ship they were watching was one of Ellis's new battlecruisers. It appeared to be moving leisurely into position; it was not in a hurry. It seemed to be headed for one of the docking positions.

_Keep moving, _Argus wanted to encourage it. The slow movement of the ship may have been frustrating for the teams waiting outside but it also meant that they had not been spotted.

"Teams two and four are back onboard commander," the hatch crew reported over the intercom.

"Acknowledged," Argus replied. The ship finally moved out of the escape path of the final two teams. Argus depressed the comm button again. "Teams one and three. You are clear to return."

* * *

A little while later, after all of the teams had returned safely, Reya bounded onto the flight deck. Bounding was the only word to describe it. Or perhaps moving with great energy.

"That was incredible! You were absolutely right. They didn't even see us coming at all! It's going to be very satisfying when they all go off," said Reya with much enthusiasm.

"Yes," acknowledged Argus. She was so excited that she didn't even notice that his voice had almost been a growl.

Her delight was punctuated by flashes of bright light on the screen. Various explosions were occurring on the huge repair dock facility which Reya and her units had just planted compression charges. Large parts of the facility were breaking off into twisted and uneven chunks even as their fast pursuit ship was speeding away, hidden among the debris.

The battle cruiser which had impeded the return of teams one and three was hit by one of large chunks. It lost one of its main engine pods and suffered great structural damage. They could see explosions along the entire rear section where the lost pod had been.

There was a huge grin of pleasure on Reya's face as she witnessed her unit's handiwork. This made Argus scowl unhappily. It had been hard for him to sit back and wait while she had all the fun. She did not have to be so enthusiastic. Being forced to stay out of the action was definitely putting him in a bad mood.

"What's our next target?" Reya turned to him eagerly. She was clearly relishing more action.

"I think it's in very bad taste for you to enjoy it so much when you know I can't join you," grumbled Argus.

"Don't be so grouchy," Reya told him. "Healer Garett says that another seven days and you will be back to a hundred percent."

"I am not being grouchy. And I _can_ function fine at eighty percent."

"Yes, you are being grouchy. In fact you're starting to make growling sounds. And it's more like seventy percent. Now be a good commander and plan our next target."

* * *

"What do you think?" psychostrategist Lambrin asked Sester.

The two old friends were discussing the conflict currently being waged between Borel Reve and his brother Ellis while shared more of Servalan's wine.

"He's actually on the high end of where we had mapped him," said Sester, referring to Borel's tactical skill in battling the overwhelming odds he was facing. "His lastest manoeuvre was quite masterful. He was in control from the beginning; the way he led Ellis's units around following a false front; while he decimated them from the sides. With surprise attacks; which disappeared as quickly as they struck. It was beautiful to watch," he said in admiration. "His reputation is well deserved. It is a good thing it is not him leading Ellis's force. Otherwise we would be having even more of a problem."

Lambrin nodded in agreement as he took another sip from his glass. "Argus seems to have been a great help too. You were correct to leave him to help Borel. He's giving Ellis some real headaches. I understand he just took out one of Ellis's main repair yards for his heavy cruisers."

"Yes. I haven't had time to map him yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also fell on the high end of his mapping. I am surprised that he was able to help this early though. I thought that Tace said he was too badly injured."

"But you are still concerned," said Lambrin.

"You know me too well, Lambrin. Yes. I am concerned. Even with Borel and Argus working together against Ellis, it may not be enough. What worries me is that even with the loses Ellis has suffered, he appears to have much greater resources then we had originally determined. Much greater. There is no way Borel can win. He can only hold out as long as he can. In the end, even he will have to bow to overwhelming forces."

"You're thinking of bringing in Kam Reve then?" asked Lambrin, guessing the direction which Sester's thoughts were turning.

"We may not have a choice. It may be the only way to salvage it," said Sester. He really hated taking this step. "Recall one of the commando teams. Tell them to prepare for a rescue."

"They're all currently on missions. The closest one is gamma team," said Lambrin. "They will need another two days to complete their task and get back from disrupting the communications array in the sixth quadrant."

"Very well. Send them in immediately when they get back."

"There is still something else bothering you, isn't there?" Lambrin asked perceptively.

"I never could fool you," said Sester. "There has been something nagging at me. Something about this Sector. But I cannot pin it down."

"Anything I can help with?" offered Lambrin.

"No. It will come to me eventually. Just take charge of tasking the commando team."

"Alright."

Lambrin left in his observer craft, leaving his friend to his nagging thoughts.

* * *

"Why should I pay you twenty million credits?" Jenna asked Myler Reve.

She, Cally and Myler were meeting in a quiet floating restaurant on Freedom City. They were in one of the soundproof booths which provided both privacy and a spectacular view of the city below.

"Because you need my information and you disrupted my plans. You cost me a great deal of credits," explained Myler with his booming bass voice. He liked to intimidate people with his overpowering voice. It disconcerted him that it did not seem to have any affect on Jenna and Cally.

"You are expecting me to apologize for escaping from your cellar?" asked Jenna with a voice full of warning.

Myler realized he had made a bad choice of words. He remembered these were the two women who had disabled him, his wife, and two of his personal staff with nothing more than a rolling pin and a handful of fruit. The young woman next to Jenna was staring at him so intently that it made him nervous.

"I know where they are keeping the woman. And I can get you in there safely," he explained.

Jenna regarded the man with suspicion. "How?"

"I won't tell you until you have transferred the money."

"Tell me how it is you know; otherwise I will not trust you and any chance of a deal will be gone," Jenna asked. She was not going to trust this man easily.

Myler sighed. Jenna had no reason to trust him. "Ellis is using one of my old estates on Ventro. At least it was mine before Feltar kicked me out and made Ellis lord over that region. There is an old secret access tunnel I had built in. I doubt if they have found it. It was very well hidden. The access hatch to it requires both coded computer access and physical lock access; both of which I can give you. Now tell me if this information is worth twenty million credits."

Jenna inclined her head towards the Auron girl sitting next to her as if she was about to ask her something but didn't.

_I do not have any indications that he is trying to trick us_ Cally projected to Jenna.

Jenna nodded. She addressed Myler, "Very well. Half tomorrow and the rest on successful completion of the operation."

"We have a deal."

_It is fortunate that the Justice is as well equipped as the Liberator was_. Cally sent her thought to Jenna.

_Yes_, thought Jenna. _I have always wondered that myself._


	9. Chapter 9

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Nine

The next time Avon woke up, he was no longer shivering. His mind was still sluggish and not very clear, but it was a marked improvement from the last time he remembered. He still felt as if his entire system had suffered some great shock; which it had. He also felt very weak and was still in much pain.

Avon felt a warm presence sitting next to him. The surface he was lying on was comfortable and familiar. It was definitely better than his normal metal sleep platform or being on the floor of one of the interrogation rooms. He recognized the bed which was Servalan's domain and on which she had often used him for her own pleasure.

He was still fully clothed; though someone had taken the trouble to remove his blood-stained coveralls and put on a fresh set. This puzzled him. Servalan usually required him to be in various stages of undress when he was in her bed; if not completely unclothed.

"Are you back with us, Avon?" Servalan asked.

Avon opened his eyes and looked at her. He nodded.

"Can you speak? Try to say something."

"What is your agenda, Servalan?" The words he spoke were barely recognizable and his throat was still sore and hoarse, but she seemed to understood him.

"Nothing different than before," she told him. "I just want you to spend a couple of days with me."

"Why?"

Servalan knew that after all they had done to him the last four days; the last thing he wanted was to spend time with her.

"It amuses me," she replied. "And I miss your attentions." Servalan reached across and stroked her hand across his chest. She was being as gentle as possible; she was afraid that he was still in pain from the healing burns.

Servalan had watched from the feed in her office as the interrogators had tortured him. Even with the sound turned off, she still thought she could hear his screams. It had haunted her sleep. She realized that she no longer wanted to hurt him herself; that task she would leave to the professionals.

In the last few days of nursing him back to a semblance of health, Servalan had controlled herself; she had not tried to take advantage of him. But her physical desire for him had almost become unbearable as a helpless and barely conscious Avon lay in her arms. Not wanting to hurt him did not mean that she did not want other things from him. In his condition, it would have been very easy to induce the appropriate physical responses; but she wanted Avon, not just a responsive physical body.

His mind was back now but she could still not bring herself to use him yet. It would have caused him too much distress. She did not want to hurt him anymore than he was already hurt. The pain blockers could only deal with the physical pain. The nerve induction unit caused more than just that. That is why it rendered its victims incoherent for days afterwards.

In the old days, Servalan knew she would not have cared. She would have used him regardless. But things were not the same anymore; she was not the same anymore, not with him.

_Just being near you makes it difficult, _she thought. _But I will wait for you.

* * *

_

The _Justice_ was in stationary orbit over Ventro. The anti-detector screen was in full operation; as it had been the entire time it had been in Sector Ten. Jenna, Cally and Vila were gathered around ORAC.

"Well ORAC?" asked Jenna.

"It is not possible. The building's material appears to interfere with most forms of carrier wave energy. The probability of unstable matter re-integration is in the order of four to one," ORAC replied.

"Then Myler Reve did not lie. There is no way to teleport directly into the building," said Cally.

"ORAC, will this also affect communication carrier waves?" Jenna asked.

"Correct."

"Wonderful," said Vila. "There goes our means of escape _and_ our chance to call for help if something goes wrong. Do we have any other cheery news? I like all of my bad news in one sitting."

No one seemed to pay attention to him. They were all familiar with his famous lack of enthusiasm for dangerous tasks.

"Zen," Jenna addressed the ship's computer. "Do a sensor sweep of the building specified earlier. How many life forms are in the building?"

"Material of indicated building does not allow sensor beam access," reported Zen after a few moments.

"I knew I had gotten out of the wrong side of bed this morning," said Vila.

"There is only one side you can get out of bed," Cally said to him. She sounded puzzled. All of their bunks were recessed into the metal walls.

"That's not what I was talking about," said Vila. "You don't need me down there, do you?" he asked Jenna. "You have all the access codes to get into the secret tunnel."

"Nervous, Vila?" Jenna asked.

"I'm not nervous," Vila said. "I'm just not up to being suicidal."

"Don't worry, Cally will protect you," said Jenna. "We need you down there, Vila. We may be able to get into the tunnel but once we're inside the building, we have no idea what locks we will run into. You are the only one with the skills to deal with them. Cally and I could probably break through the locks but it would cause too much noise and we would end up getting captured. I know you wouldn't want that Vila."

_That's not fair_, thought Vila. _You're using the damsel-in-distress on me again._

"Sometimes, I wish I weren't so indispensible," said Vila in a resigned tone.

* * *

"How can it still be seven days?" asked Argus angrily. They were arguing in his stateroom on one of the fast pursuit ships. They had just finished another successful mission. Reya had come to see that he did the rehabilitation exercises as prescribed by the healer.

"It is still seven days because you overdid the strengthening exercises and put back your recovery again. That is why I am here to make sure you do them properly. Don't blame me. It's Healer Garett's orders."

"And I'm sure you're enjoying enforcing those orders."

"You make it easy to enjoy." She said without a trace of humour.

Argus grumbled; although it sounded more like a growl.

"You're growling again, Argus. You're starting to make some of the men nervous."

"_I do not growl_," he stressed. "I do _not_ need you to supervise my exercises! And I will _not_ be treated like a child!"

Reya thought how being a patient always seemed to make Argus act like a recalcitrant and stubborn child.

"Yes, you _are_ growling. You _need_ someone to supervise you constantly; because you insist on doing silly things and hurting your own recovery. And if you _insist_ on behaving like a child in this, I will treat you like one." Reya said all of this calmly but firmly; like a parent dealing with a disobedient but valued child. "Now will you do your exercises? We have a deadline to meet if you remember."

At that Argus had nothing to say. Reya had known that no matter how frustrated he was, he would never endanger a mission. She knew that she could always count on him for that.

The rebel leader began to do the first series of warm up and stretching exercises without another word; supervised by Reya. There were more growling noises but he did them properly this time.

* * *

With ORAC operating the controls, Jenna, Cally and Vila teleported down to the surface of Ventro, just outside the hidden entrance to the tunnel. They found the entrance without much trouble.

"I don't believe it," said Vila disgustedly.

"What is wrong Vila?" asked Cally.

"I think I landed in something. My feet are wet."

Jenna brushed some dirt away from the wall, revealing a keyed panel next to the doorway.

"Well, here goes," she said as she entered in the keyed access sequence which had cost them twenty million credits to obtain.

For a few seconds there was no reaction, then there were sounds of heavy bolts moving. The door slid open. Beyond lay darkness.

"Did anyone bring an electronic torch?" asked Cally.

They all looked at each other dumbly.

"I never thought I would say this but I wish Argus were here. He would have made us kit up," said Vila. He had a real aversion to long dark tunnels which he could not see the end of.

At that moment the tunnel lit up. It was still dim, but they could make out details now. It appeared to be a long featureless tunnel. They still could not see the end of it.

"Come on, let's go," said Jenna. Holding her phase pistol in readiness, she led the way. Vila, gripping his equipment bag, followed next. Cally, with her weapon drawn as well, brought up the rear. The door slid closed behind them.

* * *

The intrepid three made their way through the dimly lit tunnels without incident. They were now standing in front of another access hatch. This one required both a keyed panel access and an override of the computer controlled security system. Jenna again used Myler Reve's information and entered in the door access code and disabled the security system. The door slid open. From the dim light in the tunnel, they could just make out it was a small dark storage room. It was just barely enough to fit all three of them. The wall slid closed behind them, plunging them into darkness.

Fortunately they had already identified where the door was. Jenna put her ear to the door.

"Do you hear anything?" asked Vila nervously. He did not like being in dark confined spaces. Especially when there was imminent danger on the other side.

"Shhh. Quiet," Jenna whispered to him. Vila may be nervous but he didn't appear to understand that whispering would aid in lessening their danger.

"Sorry," Vila whispered in apology. "Well do you hear anything?"

"Nothing," said Jenna.

"Maybe they are all asleep?" volunteered Cally in a quiet voice.

"Let's hope," said Jenna. Actually they were not surprised. They had picked the night cycle for this very purpose. There should have only been the obligatory guards still up. "Are you ready?" she asked them.

"Can we think about this?" whispered Vila. "Maybe there's something we've forgotten?"

"Like your courage?" whispered Jenna sarcastically.

Vila frowned as Jenna activated the door control. The room beyond only had faint light. They all entered cautiously and quietly.

"Bedrooms should be this way," whispered Jenna leading the way. Myler Reve had given them a good layout of the entire building. They had guessed that Ellis would not have wanted to harm the woman and probably kept her in one of the second floor bedrooms.

The little group did not encounter anyone. And there continued to be no noises.

It was completely silent.

_Its too quiet,_ thought Vila. He felt a shiver down his spine. His overly developed danger sense was telling him they should run.

They reached an ornate staircase. Myler Reve had always been prone towards ostentation. His wife had always complained about having to walk up flights of old fashioned steps when they could have installed a perfectly good modern lift system. Myler had finally given in to his whining wife (she had a very high-pitched whine) and had lifts installed as well. But he had kept the staircase.

The staircase served the little group's purpose. From the design of the building, it was more discreet using the stairs than the lift which opened up directly onto the corridor where the bedrooms were. Guards would have spotted them instantly then.

They proceeded softly up the stairs.

"Ugh," whispered Vila.

"What's wrong?" Jenna whispered, instantly concerned.

"Why is it I'm always the one who steps into something wet or slimy?" answered Vila, lifting up a foot. He sounded very disgusted. They could all see a bit of green gooish material on his lifted boot. There was a small patch of it in one corner of the stair he had been standing on. _Someone must be a messy eater_, thought Vila. _And not very efficient cleaning bots._

"Come on. Let's keep going," whispered Jenna. She was also starting to feel nervous.

Cally had not expressed it but she had been feeling a sense of foreboding since they left the storage room. "Be careful," whispered Cally.

Jenna nodded and continued up the stairs. At the top, Jenna peered around the corner leading to the bedroom corridor. There were no guards. There was no one.

"What do you see?" whispered Vila.

"There's no one there," Jenna whispered back. They could both see she was confused.

"What do you mean?" Cally said in a quiet voice.

"I mean there are no guards. No one at all," clarified Jenna.

"I don't like this. I think we should run," said Vila.

"Maybe its a trap?" Cally suggested.

"Yes, maybe its a trap," Vila echoed Cally. "And we should run," he suggested again.

"No," said Jenna. "We still have to find Galena." She proceeded carefully down the corridor leaving them no choice except to follow or abandon her.

_You were around Blake too long_, reflected Vila as he reluctantly followed her.

Vila need not have worried. None of them needed to have worried. There was absolutely nothing. No guards. No people. And worse of all, no Galena to rescue.

"I don't get it," said Vila. "Where is everyone?"

"Jenna," Cally called her crewmate's attention. She was pointed to a low mark on the wall just outside the bedroom they had just finished checking. Jenna bent down and looked closely at it.

"That looks like a energy weapon burn," she identified.

"What in the galaxy has been going on?" asked Vila.


	10. Chapter 10

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Ten

"You can wait one more day, Argus," said Reya.

"But if Borel approves the operation, we will do it right away," argued Argus. "It can't wait twenty-four hours."

Argus was one more day from being recovered enough to the point where Healer Garett was willing to release him for physical action. The rebel leader was getting increasingly restless as the time approached but there was also another reason.

All around the ship, a great battle was being raged. Ellis had finally managed to corner one of Borel's main forces and they had been battling for several days. Despite his brilliance, Borel was being steadily pushed back. The only hope was for reinforcements to arrive.

Argus had proposed a radical and highly dangerous manoeuvre. If they were able to knock out the main command ship, it would buy them some time until the reinforcements arrived. Everything had already been prepared for the mission. They were only waiting for Borel to approve the operation; they knew that he would authorize it. The young general had no choice.

"That's why you're not going in," said Reya obstinately.

"I have to go in," said Argus, who was also as stubborn. "It will be difficult enough gaining access without being detected. Once we're in, you need my expertise. If we fail in this, Borel will not be able to hold out. You know this."

Reya hesitated for a moment. Argus was right about the importance of the operation. It all depended on them. But she also knew that even with twenty-four more hours, Argus was only healed. Physically he was still not strong enough. Healer Garett had warned her. Argus had only been able to do limited strengthening and endurance exercises during his recovery. It was because he had pushed these exercises which had caused the previous setback. She did not really want to tell him that even with the extra day, he would not be allowed on this mission; not unless she had to.

The operation they were attempting was dangerous and needed everyone in top physical condition. The likelihood that the boarding team would meet with opposition was high.

"You are not going. And that's final," Reya said. She nodded to two of the crew who were nearby. They reached for their weapons. Reya had informed them already of what she might do. "I will have you chained here if you insist on coming."

The movement did not escape Argus. Inside him a war of emotions was going on which reflected the battle raging outside. Part of him was angry that she was doing this. The other part was very concerned for her. He would not let her face this danger on her own.

"I thought that you had promised never to do this to me again?" he accused her. She had threatened this once before on a prior mission; but they both knew this was not what he was referring to. He was talking about what she tried to have done to him in the infirmary.

"Argus, be reasonable. You are not ready yet physically. You may be healed but until you get stronger, you will be a liability in this kind of operation. You would only slow us down. Do you _want_ to get me killed?" she asked. She had wanted to avoid saying this but he had given her no choice.

Her assessment had been accurate and unforgiving. She knew he would hate her for saying it. He was never one to admit that he would let anyone down because of his own weakness. Reya could see the anger in his eyes and a pain which did not come from his wounds.

After several months of working together in intense situations, she knew all of the kinds of man he was. Despite her brother's sarcasm, she had known exactly how Argus felt; even though the rebel leader may not have recognized it himself. And it had not been something she was willing to admit to herself until now.

_My poor, brave rebel leader. I cannot let you go with us, _she thought. _I'm sorry.

* * *

_

Jenna, Cally and Vila had conducted a search of the entire mansion. They were completely alone. There were additional signs of pulse and energy rifle burns but not many.

"It appears as if there was a battle here but someone tried to erase all signs of it," said Cally. They were no longer whispering. "The only thing they could not completely remove were some of the marks left by the discharge of weapons."

They were all a in command centre of some kind which held several computer terminals and large wall screens.

"Cally, can you see if you can find out anything from the computers? Maybe a log of some kind?"

Cally perched herself on a desk and began manipulating the computer terminal keys. Without warning, the terminal exploded sending her flying across the room. They started hearing other loud explosions throughout the building.

"We set off a trap!" said Jenna. "We have to get out of here!" She went over to Cally. The Auron girl was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound but did not seem to have any other external signs of injury.

"Where?" said Vila; who was also bent down over Cally. He looked ready to run in whichever direction someone indicated to him was safe.

The explosion of the computer terminal had started a fire in the room they were in. There was smoke everywhere as they heard more explosions.

"Back to the tunnel," said Jenna. "Quickly. Take her other arm," she instructed Vila as she took hold of one of Cally's arms.

Dragging a still unconscious Cally, they both ran back towards the small supply room. Jenna had guessed that since the mansion occupants had not known about the tunnel, it was the safest place to be.

They proceeded through the tunnel even as more explosions occurred behind them. Just as they exited the passage and Jenna instructed ORAC to teleport them all back up, the entire mansion exploded.

* * *

"Is Cally alright," asked Jenna as Vila returned to the flight deck from the medical bay. Jenna had already instructed Zen to return to Kameron Reve's base.

"She was lucky," said Vila. "She only has a couple of broken bones and a concussion but she should be fine."

"I keep thinking that if she had been sitting in front of the screen…"

"That's too horrible to think about," said Vila. He had lost too many friends; he did not even want to think about how close they had come to losing another one.

"We have a problem now," said Jenna.

"Yes, like who is trying to kill us?" said Vila.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think that trap was meant specifically for us," Jenna told him.

"Yes, much better. I prefer being killed by people who know who we are," said Vila.

"The problem is what are we going to tell Kameron Reve?" said Jenna.

"Oh, yes. I forgot that. We do have a problem," agreed Vila. Having people try to kill him usually tended to erase all other thoughts from his mind.

* * *

Borel paced the flight deck of his flag ship. Even though a fierce battle was being raged outside the ship, in this command area everything was calm and ordered. There was an attitude of quiet determination and confidence among the men on duty and the leaders who were involved in the planning. It was a reflection of, and a great tribute to their leader.

The young general had received Argus's plans for a new operation. He instantly recognized its potential and immediately knew how dangerous it was. If they were able to knock out the main command ship, it would buy them the time they needed until the reinforcements arrived. Unfortunately his brother was not on the command vessel. He was always far away from the action.

Borel realized this was the chance they desperately needed.

Even though his commanders refused to admit it, Borel knew that unless the reinforcements arrived they could not hold out much longer. Half of his ships were either destroyed or no longer capable of defending themselves. More were reaching that state with every passing hour of the battle.

Borel knew that the chances that his sister and Argus would survive this operation unscathed were not high. He also knew that if anyone could do it, they stood the best chance. The survival of his fleet rested on them. He had to approve the operation.

Borel was glad that at least Reya and Argus were together. He hoped that they would stop being silly long enough to resolve things between them. Before it was too late.

He sent the authorization.

* * *

"What is the status of that area of weakness in the shield?" Argus asked the science officer.

"There is evidence of repair but it should still be thin enough for us to punch through," the sci officer reported.

"Excellent," Argus told him. "How far is the position of that piece of junk you identified?" he turned to the navigation officer.

"Another twenty two seconds sir," the nav officer reported.

"You are clear what we need to do?" Argus asked the cruiser pilot. "You're going to have to time this exactly and there must be no deviation in our angle."

"Yes, sir."

They could all see the approaching space debris on the viewscreen. It had been part of a heavy battle cruiser and was considerably larger than their ship. Its path would bring them close enough that they would pass beyond the command ship's medium range sensors. As long as they kept their engines off, the command ship's computers should ignore them as just more space debris which would burned off in the shielding. Once past the ship's shield, they would be blind to everything except the visual sensors. They had discovered a blind spot which was suitable for their purposes.

The nav officer began the countdown. "Ten second warning. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…"

"Cutting engines, slow on reverse thrust," reported the pilot as he threw several switches. The shadow of the debris passed over them, dangerously close. Their slowing ship was matching the speed of the piece of debris.

The countdown continued, "Three, two."

"Shields off, reverse thrusters off."

"One."

Everything went silent.

"Tracking drift path," reported the nav officer.

They all waited. Their ship and it's large shadow seemed to move painfully slowly.

"Damn," said the nav officer.

"What is it?" asked Argus calmly.

"There is another piece of space debris approaching. Fast. I cannot determine accurate enough if it will hit us. But it will be very close," was the reply.

"Put up the projected path," Argus instructed.

On the main viewscreen they could now see a line indicating the offending piece of debris in relation to their own path. It did not look good.

"Stick to the plan," said Argus. "Continue to update the projected path as it gets closer," he instructed.

* * *

Lambrin reported to senior psychostrategist Sester over the main viewing screen on Sester's observer craft.

"There has been no communication from the commando unit I sent to Ventro. Not since the mission blackout."

"When was the last communication you had from them?"

"That was two days ago. They reported that they were approaching orbital position above Ventro. I cannot raise their ship. Not even on the emergency frequency. Has there been any movement by Ellis?"

"No," replied Sester. This was troubling. They were starting to lose control and psychostrategists hated things they could not map or control.

He continued, "Either Ellis does not know yet or he knows and has decided not to do anything yet. The troop we sent in, they were carrying nothing which could identify them as Federation?"

"No, they are very careful about that," replied Lambrin. "Do you want me to send another unit in?"

"No. It's too late now. Whatever happened was planned to happen. Someone is playing games with us. I suspect that if we send another unit after them, they will fall into another trap. And this time it will be very apparent."

"You think that it's the mysterious force we can't identify," asked Lambrin.

"It has to be. We have to find out who they are," said Sester. The nagging feeling that he should know what was going on had not left him. It had something to do with Sector Ten. Sester felt he was very close to something which was continuing to elude him.

"Agreed."

"I am going to call in Tace and Vorshell. We need to do some thinking," said Sester. "Let's meet tomorrow at nine hundred hours standard time on my ship."

"Very well. Lambrin out."

As Lambrin signed off, it finally dawned on Sester what had been eluding him.

"Of course!"

* * *

As the offending space debris got closer, the crew of Argus's pursuit ship could see that it must have once been part of a ship's crew quarters. It was getting dangerously close. The nav officer had reported that there was a fifty-fifty chance that they would be hit.

"I could use the comp engines," the pilot told Argus. The officer's hand reached towards the controls which would bring the low energy compensator engines online.

"No," said Argus. The pilot turned and looked at the rebel leader's face briefly. He saw a calm determination. The pilot had never known anything to rattle their commander, except their other commander; and she always deferred to him on anything strictly operational.

The pilot trusted Argus. He removed his hand from the comp engine controls.

They all held their breaths as the space debris came within inches of their aft hull. Without their shields on, even a brush against their hull would be dangerous.

The debris passed them. Everyone let out a collective breath.

"How are we doing with the drift path?" Argus asked the navigator.

"Still holding on line with the weakness in the shield."

"Good."

The rest of the ship's manoeuvre went without incident. They activated their own shield briefly just to cross the command vessel's shield barrier. The pilot positioned them near a disused maintenance hatch near one of the main waste and recycle plants. It was time for Reya's teams to go into action.

Argus activated the ship's comm. "Teams one and two, you are clear to proceed. Good luck."


	11. Chapter 11

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Eleven

Avon was breathless and leaning heavily against Servalan as they neared the bench by the lake in the garden of Residence One. The Federation President insisted on this exercise at least twice a day since he had become strong enough to walk again. That had been three days ago and he still was not able to make it to the bench without being held up by her at least part of the way.

"This would be easier if you didn't give me the drugs. Or have my hands restrained behind me," Avon said with difficulty as she helped lower him to the bench so he could sit. By now he was gasping for breath.

"You are always looking for an advantage," remarked Servalan as she sat down beside him. Her voice was expressionless. It indicated that she was unmoved by the fact that it took a major effort for him to do something as simple as walking.

"Aren't you doing the same?" asked Avon, with his characteristic lack of emotion. "That is why you are playing this game?"

"And what game are you playing Avon?"

"I only want to survive."

_That is all I want too, Avon. _"You repeatedly say that we are not alike," said Servalan. "You are fooling yourself Avon."

Avon's breathing was finally returning to normal.

"You always think we are alike, Servalan. But we are not. Why are you fooling _yourself_?"

Servalan laughed. _My dearest Avon. I have missed you._

"Are you capable of anything other than games?" Avon asked when she did not answer him.

_I do not know, _thought Servalan. In her life, everything had been become a game to acquire power; and she was a detached player with other people's lives.

She could barely remember a time when it was not that way. Just barely.

"There was a time," she began tentatively. She wasn't sure why she was telling him. Servalan realized that he was the only one in her life she could tell.

"I was young and foolish. And I was in love with a man named Don Keller."

Avon found it difficult to believe that this woman was capable of loving anyone other than herself and power. But there was a note in her voice he had never heard before. A vulnerability. And a loneliness.

She continued to tell him about herself and Don Keller; peeling back the layers of her life.

When Avon had asked her that question, he had never intended that she would tell him this kind of information; but it had been something he had wanted to know.

* * *

Argus paced the flight deck restlessly. Reya and the two infiltration teams had not returned yet. It had been half an hour since they had breached the access hatch of the enemy command vessel. He knew he still had a long wait.

Operations procedure demanded that there be a communication blackout until it was over; or if anything went wrong. He didn't know whether he wanted to hear Reya's voice over the comm or not.

In his mind's eye, he could follow the progress of the teams. The teams had entered the ship through a disused access hatch. The smell would have been immediate upon entering the room. On a ship where everything was sanitized, this was one of the few areas which had a disagreeable smell.

Argus knew that Reya would have not paid any attention to it. She was focused when on a mission.

_That's one of the things I admire about you, _he thought.

The teams would have split up immediately. Each was to enter into one of the interconnected waste management and maintenance tunnels which ran the length of the ship. They would have to climb them and avoid the waste packets.

The tunnels were the only way to avoid detection. The ship's security would not be expecting infiltrators while in space. The battle being fought outside the ship would be the focus of all of their attention.

Argus imagined Reya's team climbing the tunnels. Her team had the farthest distance to climb. Anyone not in good condition would be in bad shape by the time they reached their destination.

Argus admitted grudgingly, _You were right not to let me come with you. I would have slowed you down. _It was not something he would ever admit to her.

While the other unit was headed for the engineering deck, Reya's team was headed for a main power conduits junction. Once the charges were blown, it should set up cascading explosions throughout the ship.

Argus smiled to himself, _You always loved the explosions. _He had never quite met a woman like her before.

Once they reached their destination, Reya's team would have to exit the tunnel system. Then would have to cross several corridors undetected before reaching the conduits. This was the most dangerous part of the boarding operation. Reya had insisted on being part of this team.

It was something he would have done.

_We are very much alike_, thought Argus. _That's probably why we fight all the time. _This time he smiled and forgot that he was not alone.

"Argus." Reya's voice sounded over the comm system. Her voice calling his name instantly produced joy, anticipation and fear; all at the same time.

_Which will it be?_

The next sound over the comm was that of weapons fire.

All emotion disappeared; replaced by calm determination.

"Argus. We've been discovered. Leave once team two returns. We will try to draw their attention away from the escape hatch." There was a paused and more weapons fire. They could hear an object impacting another object. Argus thought he recognized the sound of a body hitting a surface. Some cried out, "Commander!" The comm speaker crackled with static.

Argus's calm determination had become a deadly resolve. In his mind he was already making plans. He determined where Reya's team had reached given the time they had been away. Then in his mind he drew out the possible routes she had taken in order to do what she had communicated.

Reya's voice returned over the speaker, "Argus. Follow protocol and get out. Save our men and help Borel. The charges have already been planted. Reya out."

Her voice was cold, distracted and distant. Her message was professional. The comm went dead. He knew she would have turned it off at that point. It was something he would have done in her place. And she would have called him a fool.

_Perhaps we are both fools._ Argus headed towards the flight deck exit.

"Where are you going commander?" One of his men asked. They had all been frozen by the communication; each man locked in their own thoughts. Argus's movement towards the lift had stirred them to action.

"I am going after them," Argus said in a cold and resolute voice. He knew that Reya had probably left orders for the crew to stop him from following her if anything went wrong. In fact, the pilot had been readying the ship for an emergency exit.

"The only way you will be able to stop me; is if you kill me before I kill you," he warned them. They knew he was not that kind of man but looking into his cold eyes, they were not sure anymore. This was not the Argus who bickered constantly with Reya. This was not even their fearless commander whom they would follow anywhere. This was a man they had never seen before.

"Ready the ship for emergency departure," Argus ordered. "You heard Commander Reve. Once team two returns leave immediately. Command of the flight deck is yours Captain Mayner."

Argus turned around and left the flight deck. No one tried to stop him.

* * *

"We tried Kam," Cally tried to explain. "But someone got there before we did."

Cally and Jenna had returned to the tenth floor of the Heavy Cruiser bar to meet with Kameron Reve.

"The mansion was empty when we arrived. There was evidence of weapons fire," Cally continued.

"Do you know where she is?" Kam asked. They could see he was not satisfied.

"Unfortunately, we were not able to determine that," said Jenna. "There were no signs of what happened to her and we had no time to find out more. We barely got out alive before the entire place exploded. Whoever it was that took her, left a trap."

"You can't even tell me if she is alive, can you?" He was starting to become angry. "All you did was fail; and alert Ellis as a result."

Cally sensed a mixture of fear and the ever-present sadness; along with the anger emanating from him. _This is the reaction we were afraid of_, thought Cally.

"I'm sorry," replied Cally, "We can give you no information of comfort."

"Get out!" he ordered them. The anger now overrode everything else.

Jenna looked over to Cally. Cally shook her head imperceptibly. _He cannot be reasoned with in this state. _She communicated.

"We will continue to look for her," Jenna reassured Kameron before they left.

"I do not want any more of your help," Kam told her angrily. "I cannot afford it."

There was nothing more they could say or do. Jenna and Cally left.

_We will continue to help you. Even though you may not want our help. _Projected Cally as the lift doors closed; even though she knew he could not hear her.

* * *

Even though everything appeared to be going wrong on all fronts, there was one bright spot. Avon's modified ASP, under ORAC's instructions, had found what it had been designed to find on an a Federation ship orbitting Gaverin Three; one of the first planet's used to test the new virus on a large scale.

ORAC now had the antidote. Now it needed to find sources for all of the compounds required to produce the compound.

The computer unit had determined that the _Justice's_ laboratory and medical facilities would be able to synthesize the required formulation. It could not do it on a large-scale but it was adequate for the needs of the crew.

Avon had ordered that the entire crew receive the antidote as an inoculation against future tampering by the Federation. ORAC had considered this a prudent measure.

ORAC added additional programming to the ASP and sent it off again. ORAC did a good imitation of a manager.

At least now that the crew was occupied on their various tasks, they had not bothered ORAC with frivolous requests; except for the occasional demand to operate the teleport. ORAC had been able to devote its time to fulfilling the coded orders left by Avon. Concurrently it was also formulating the conditions under which it would communicate the information to the crew; and it was generating a plan to rescue Avon.

It was a very busy computer.


	12. Chapter 12

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Twelve

Argus staggered through the opened hatch, carrying Reya over his shoulders. With one hand he grabbed onto one of the crew manning the hatch to stop himself from falling. Several hands took the burden from him. At first he held onto her but when he realized they only wanted to help, he allowed them to. Someone also took him in hand and helped him to collapse to the deck; his back leaning against the wall. There was blood on his face and his uniform. He was dripping with sweat and was breathing heavily.

Sounds came to him in confusing jumbles. He was so exhausted. For some reason, his vision was blurry.

"Reya." His bewildered mind only knew one thing. He needed to see her; to make sure she was alright.

He could vaguely register that more people were coming through the hatch. Everything sounded too loud. There appeared to be lots of shouting and running about.

One of the field healers bent down to examine him. Argus tried to push him away but for some reason, his arms were no longer cooperating. There was something more important he needed to do.

"Reya," he called her name again and tried to get up. Argus groaned. His shoulders felt like they had when the torturers had almost twisted them from their joints. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. The pain was fast becoming unbearable. He vaguely realized that the painkiller he had taken before going to rescue Reya, had worn off; along with the stimulants.

"She's fine Commander. They're bringing her to the med unit now. We should get you there too."

This information made him feel less anxious. Argus remembered there was something else he needed to do. "We need to leave. Tell them to…" _Something. _He could barely concentrate now.

The field healer guessed what his concern was, "It's alright Commander. Captain Mayner already has us underway."

_What about the charges on the command ship? _That was what Argus tried to think next; tried to communicate next. But all that came out was, "Ship…charges?"

"It worked sir, the command ship was destroyed. Now let's get you to the medical bay."

At that point, with his main concerns satisfied, Argus started to black out.

His last thought before he lost all consciousness was, _Now I know why Ellis has become so powerful.

* * *

_

"You are sure?" asked psychostrategist Vorshell.

"You wish proof?" asked Sester. It was nine hundred Federation standard time the next day. All of the psychostrategists were meeting aboard Sester's observer craft.

"No. I would never question your psych-casting," said Vorshell. _Unfortunately, you have never been wrong. _"But without proof, you cannot present this kind of information to the Federation President or the Council," Vorshell warned him.

"I know," said Sester. The senior psychostrategist had already started developing a psych-strategy since his flash of insight the previous day. Some of it he would tell his fellow colleagues. Some of it he would never tell them.

"How did you know?" asked Lambrin.

"Something has been playing at the back of my mind for days. But I wasn't able to identify what it was until yesterday. It has to do with this Sector," explained Sester.

"Sector Ten?" asked Tace.

"Yes. It has to do with the location of this Sector."

"Ahhh," psychostrategist Lambrin expressed. He nodded his understanding.

_I knew you would get it right away once I mentioned that, my friend, _thought Sester.

Tace and Vorshell looked at the two of them with puzzlement.

"Can someone illuminate things for the rest of us?" asked Vorshell. He did not like being one of the uninformed.

Sester did not like illuminating things for people. Unless they were the Federation President.

Knowing this, Lambrin decided to help out. "It is next to Sector Eleven."

Insight entered puzzled brains.

"This is not good," said Tace.

"We have to find some proof," said Vorshell. Once the danger was identified, they were all united in finding a solution.

"What can we do in the meantime?" asked Lambrin. "Do you have a plan?"

Lambrin knew that since Sester had identified the threat at least twelve hours ago, he had to already have the sketch of a plan.

"We need to convince Kameron Reve to enter the conflict. But we have a serious problem."

Sester nodded to Lambrin to explain what had happened to the commando unit sent in. Or rather Lambrin explained what should have happened but did not.

"That almost proves it," said Vorshell.

"As much as can be proven without any physical evidence," said Sester.

"It's too bad not everyone can think like a psychostrategist," said Tace. "Or they would not need to be convinced."

Vorshell looked at Tace as if the man were insane. The young man was very proud of being a psychostrategist; and loved the privilege it gave him. He was a very young psychostrategist.

"How is Borel doing?" Sester asked the young man.

"I was sure that he had had it several days ago," Vorshell reported. "But he keeps surprising me. And that man that you had released. He managed to take out the command ship. That saved the day until the reinforcements arrived. It was very useful putting a tracker on him. We were able to follow his every move. Though I think he hurt himself again. He has been in the med unit for several days at Borel's castle."

_Yes, Argus is proving very useful_, thought Sester. _He is going to be needed as well._

"So Borel can hold out a bit longer," asked Sester.

"Yes. But we all know that once his losses reach critical mass, he will lose. No matter how brilliant a tactician he is or how much help he gets from Argus."

"I want the three of you to find a way to convince Kameron Reve."

"And where will you be?" asked Lambrin.

"I am returning to Earth. I will try to convince the Federation President to send troops in." _And there is also something else I must do._

None of them relished his task.

"Even if you do, it will take them days to assemble and weeks to get here," remarked Vorshell.

"That is why it is essential you get Kameron Reve to enter the conflict."

"Very well," said Lambrin. Their goals were clear; at least to themselves.

* * *

The flight deck of the _Justice_ was very quiet. This was odd, since they were supposed to be having a meeting. They had reached an impasse. Not one of them could figure out how they could convince Kameron Reve to bring his troups in to help his brother Borel.

ORAC had begrudgingly relayed newscasts about the battle currently being waged in quadrant five. They knew that things were grim even though Borel was holding out against the odds.

"That is not my function," complained the computer unit. It sounded annoyed, as it normally did. But it did as requested.

They needed to push Kameron Reve but none of them knew how. Even ORAC had no useful suggestions.

"What do we know about what we found out," asked Cally, trying to get the dialogue going.

_She sounds like Avon, a bit_, reflected Vila. _Although she certainly doesn't look like him. Which is definitely a good thing._

"We didn't find anything," he said.

"That's not quite true, Vila. We found scorch marks indicating a battle had taken place," said Cally.

"Oh. And we found a trap; which we very neatly sprung," Vila got in the spirit of things.

"We found that someone had tried to make it look like no fight had taken place. Though that was probably so that we would fall into the trap," Jenna added.

"We know that Ellis Reve is not making any moves to indicate that he knows anyone infiltrated the mansion," said Cally. "Or that he knows the woman he was holding is missing." Cally and Jenna looked at Vila for his next input.

"Is it my turn again?" said Vila. "Do I get to pass?" He had run out of ideas already. The others had taken the ones he was going to mention. "Oh hang on. I picked up some green goo on my shoe." _That has limerick potential_, thought Vila.

"I had forgotten about that," said Jenna. _Good old Vila. Always stepping into things. _"Did you have the autocleaners take care of it?"

"Of course," said Vila. He made a mental note to himself to do that the moment he went back to his cabin. The sticky boots had joined a heap of discarded clothing in the corner of his room. He had been procrastinating. Vila hated doing laundry, even if it only involved walking it down to the autocleaner units.

"That is too bad," said Cally.

"Why?" asked Vila. He wondered if Cally had read his mind about the dirty laundry.

"I would have liked to have ORAC examine its chemical composition," the Auron replied.

"Why would you want to? It's probably just some food someone spilled accidentally."

"Among my people there is a saying. Even spilled food may have limitless possibilities."

"Either your people are hopeless optimists or you are just making these sayings up," remarked Jenna with a tone of light sarcasm.

"Do you really think it might be useful?" Vila asked Cally. He always liked to help pretty girls if he had a chance. Especially if that help did not extend to any life threatening situations.

"When you have run out of options, even examining green goo might give us ideas," said Cally. "But the question is academic, since you have already had it cleaned."

"Well, not cleaned exactly," said Vila.

"Vila, have you not been doing your laundry again?" asked Jenna. She remembered from their days on the Liberator that sometimes Blake had to remind him; else Vila would just keep taking new clothes out of the wardrobe room.

"I have all the laundry gathered in one place. I was just about to bring it down," said Vila defensively.

"Before you do that Vila, can you bring the boots?" asked Cally.

"I will do it right now," said Vila, rushing out. "And I'll bring the laundry over," he added over his shoulder.

"Do you need one of the big anti-grav carts?" asked Jenna jokingly right before he exited.

"Very funny," they could hear him remark under his breath.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Vila, Cally and Jenna were all crowded around ORAC. Some of the sticky green substance had been scraped off and stuck on a clear glass plate by Cally. This had been placed on a sensor pad so that ORAC could scan it. It had just given them the chemical composition of the material. But the components had meant nothing to them as none of them were familiar with the chemical sciences.

"ORAC, can you put that in terms we can understand?" asked Jenna; who currently had the command control of the computer unit.

"Very well," it said as if it were a great imposition. "It is a bio-matter material which results from the decomposition of…"

"ORAC," Jenna interrupted it again. "Can you put it in _other_ terms we can understand?"

ORAC thought that it had made things clear enough already. But clearly these humans were not Avon and perhaps required words of one or two syllables.

"It is the remains of a body," ORAC tried again.

"Oh," Cally exclaimed. She recognized it; now that ORAC had identified what it was. She had seen this kind of decomposing bio-matter before.

"An alien body which you encountered at Star One," ORAC continued explaining.

"Yes, I recognize it now," said Cally. "I saw these at the Star One base after Avon had shot one of them."

They all looked at each other. Each was at a loss for words but they all had a single thought.

_What do we do now?_


	13. Chapter 13

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Thirteen

"Is that the story you told Tarrant? Down on the sand planet?" Avon asked the Federation President after they had finally shared a passionate night together. The analyst was sitting with his back against the head of the bed. Servalan was nestled against his shoulder as they rested. They had been together for five days.

She had taken his hand in hers and was absently tracing the lines on his palm.

"I don't know what you mean," she replied.

"Tarrant came back thinking you were human."

"And what do you think, Avon?" She turned her body towards him so she could look at him.

"I think you do a very good imitation of one," he said looking down at her. There was an amused expression on his face. "He was very naïve to be taken in by you."

"He was very sweet." Servalan recalled how she and Tarrant had kissed and she had easily taken his gun from him. "And very naïve," she agreed.

"He doesn't know you as well as I do," Avon said.

"Who does?"

After the day by the lake, when she had poured out her life with Don Keller to him; Servalan had become less of a mystery to him. And he wished that she still was.

"Tarrant made a mistake," Avon remarked. He now understood where Tarrant had gone wrong.

"He made many mistakes."

Avon had no arguments with her about that.

"His mistake was not in thinking that you were human; but that you still were."

"How very perceptive of you, Avon. And is that what you are?"

Avon smiled.

He did not answer her so she continued, "I had my Don Keller. And you had your Anna Grant."

Avon stopped smiling. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't think so? Remember. I was there. In the cellar. When you killed her."

_I saw the look in your eyes_, she thought. Servalan wondered if others had seen the same look in hers the day Don Keller had ripped out her heart.

"Do not mention the cellar to me," Avon said in a cold voice. There was an equally cold anger in his eyes.

"Yes. You are right. It was very tasteless of me to mention it." _How could I have forgotten? I lost that right when we used it as one of the nightmare scenarios to break you._

For some reason, that anger in his eyes disturbed her. The anger was not because of her. It was for a woman who was long dead.

* * *

_Perhaps having both of you in beds next to each other was not a good idea_, thought Healer Garett as Argus and Reya were having yet another argument.

_Or maybe I should have you both moved to separate rooms._

At first it had been fine. They had both been injured and there was a tenderness and concern between them. But as they had both become stronger, the sparks began to fly.

Healer Garett had both of them chained to their respective beds. Both of them refused to stay in their beds otherwise. He shook his head and smiled.

_You are both so much alike_. He never thought that Reya would ever run into someone who could affect her as much as Argus did.

Garett had served with Feltar Reve when the Overlord was alive; and had attended the delivery of most of his children. The Healer had watched Reya grow up. He seen her desperate attempts to gain her father's approval even though it was clear he was only concerned about his sons. She had tried to make herself even better than her brothers by becoming a soldier.

He had never seen anyone try so hard before and overcome so many odds in order to succeed. And succeed she did; at everything she put her hands to. But she did not succeed at the one thing she wanted. His heart had ached for her when she realized that no matter what she achieved, she would never be good enough for her father; because she was not a son.

Reya became hard and unforgivingly cynical. _But you never felt sorry for yourself. _

She seemed to lose the ability to love anyone, not even herself; although she was always very protective of her younger brother. Of all of the Overlord's children, Garett had a great fondness for Reya and Borel.

* * *

"I don't know why you have to be so stubborn," said Reya.

"I don't know why you have to be so unreasonable," countered Argus.

"And what are we arguing about today?" asked Healer Garett as he approached their beds. _I really should be asking what they are arguing about this hour._

Both of them fell silent. They did not like other people joining in their disagreements.

Garett had noticed that. When they fought, it was only for each other.

_You are a strange pair, _he thought.

"I want both of you to get some rest, or I will have you separated and put in different rooms."

"I will stop if you will," Argus looked over at Reya.

"I will stop. But only because Healer Garett asked."

Garett saw that Argus had a biting response ready but the rebel leader controlled himself. Instead he rolled onto his side facing away from her, and closed his eyes.

Reya did the same on her side.

Standing between them, Garett shook his head. He knew the peace would probably only last a few hours. But every hour they could rest was good for them.

Garett had known that threatening them with separation would work. He realized that he would probably have a fight on his hands if he ever did try to separate them. He doubted if a whole platoon of guards would be able to achieve it.

All of his infirmary personnel were already very wary of Argus and refused any order to do anything which the rebel leader might not like. The Healer had only been able to have the two of them restrained because it was done while they were both too weak to resist.

Garett was the only one both of them deferred to.

* * *

_What are you doing ORAC? _Avon wondered. He was tired and he was in Servalan's bedroom again. The Federation President was dozing in his arms after several hours of intense activity.

It had been almost a week since she had him returned to the Special Detention Centre after he had recuperated at Residence One. And now she had asked for him again.

As she rested, Avon took the opportunity to run over his plans in his mind.

The modified programming for the remaining ASP had been released by the uplink to the researchers' datapads several weeks ago. His minders and whatever security personnel also checked his work had completely missed it because they had been looking at the wrong thing and at the wrong time.

He knew they had been checking his work carefully and thoroughly since he had been allowed to work with people again. Everything he touched or worked on with the phase-compression rifle group was scrutinized; sometimes in his presence. But they had found nothing.

Because there had not been anything to find. At least not there. They checked everything except what they needed to check.

He knew it had confounded them to no end; especially Sester, whom of all of his enemies, knew for certain that he was planning something.

Avon had planned for the eventual contingency that he would be allowed to work with people again. He had readied the modified programming in discreet parts, hidden within the computer at the lab. By the time he was allowed to work with researchers again, he did not have to do anything else. The modified programming was able to act on its own without any additional input or action from him; and was completely separate from any of his work on the phase-compression rifle.

It uploaded itself in small pieces over the course of over two weeks; using the datapads used by the researchers to load data for their personal use away from the lab. Once completely within the network, it reassembled itself then sent a recall out to the remaining ASP. The two would merge and become a much more powerful entity and then it would go looking for ORAC.

The wrong place and the wrong time; that is why they were unable to catch him out. And why Servalan and Sester had resorted to torture to get him to behave.

_But there should be results by now, _he thought. Avon moaned.

Servalan was no longer dozing and was caressing him now. Her attentions to his body brought his mind back.

"What were you thinking just now?" she asked continuing to caress him; deliberately trying to provoke a reaction from him. He bit back another moan. She was also adding light kisses to various parts of his body. It was becoming difficult to not react to what she was doing to him. She had always known how to get him to respond to her touch. His breathing had become quicker. It was clear she was eager for more activity and very soon; which was a good thing, that meant he did not have to think up a response to her question.

* * *

"I thought I told you that I do not want or need your help?" said Kameron Reve. Although Cally did no discern any emanations of anger from him, his voice had been cold.

Jenna and Cally had come with a sample of the alien material and were about to try to convince Kam Reve that there was something major going on and that he needed to put his personal concerns aside.

"We have some information which you might find useful," said Cally.

"I don't want to hear it unless you can tell me where Galena is and what happened to her," said Kam.

"We cannot tell you where she is, but we may know what happened to her," replied Cally.

Kameron waited for her to continue.

"While we were exploring the mansion, we came across a substance. It was green and had a gooey consistency. We brought it up to our ship for analysis. It appears that this substance is a decomposing bio-matter material consistent with the remains of the beings who tried to invade our galaxy several years ago from Sector Eleven."

"You are saying that the aliens have Galena?" asked Kam incredulously.

"It is highly possible. I told you that we had encountered evidence which suggested that a battle had taken place at the mansion where she was being kept. It is highly likely that the aliens have her now. We brought a sample of the bio-matter for your people to analyze."

"Why would the aliens do that?"

"That is something we were not able to ascertain."

"You think that this information will change my mind about helping Borel?"

"Yes," replied Jenna, speaking for the first time since they entered the room. "The issue has reached beyond the conflict between you, Ellis and Borel. There are much deeper concerns here if the aliens are trying to take control of this sector. The Athol Territories represent a major part of this sector. We need you to step in."

Kam smiled. Cally sensed that there was something going on. There were no indications of the hostility she had felt from him the last time they had seen him.

"What is going on?" Cally asked suspiciously.

"It's too late," Kameron replied. There was a faint hint of amusement emanating from him now. This was definitely something she had not been expecting under the circumstances.

"What do you mean?" asked Jenna. "Are you not going to help?"

"Borel contacted me several days ago. I already know about the aliens. My forces are already on the move out to quadrant five. In fact I had only come back here to get a few things before I left for my flag ship."

Jenna had a disgusted look on her face, "You mean we went to all that trouble for nothing?"

"No, you didn't. I now know that the aliens are also involved with happened to Galena. For that I am grateful," answered Kam. "I am now even more determined to resolve things. Can I ask one favour of you?"

"Ask it," Jenna told him."

"Can you continue trying to find out what happened to Galena? I will be too busy now and I need to know that someone is taking care of this. Someone I trust," Kam told them.

Jenna looked towards Cally, who nodded.

"We will continue looking," agreed Jenna.

"Thank you. Now I really need to get going," said Kam.


	14. Chapter 14

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Fourteen

Psychostrategist Sester was heading back to Earth when he received word from his fellow strategists out in Sector Ten.

Lambrin reported, "It appears that Kameron Reve is finally moving his forces towards the battle in quadrant five. An alliance has formed between him and Borel."

"Excellent work."

"Unfortunately we had nothing to do with it."

"What happened to convince him?" asked Sester. Even though this was good news, it was not welcome news that this was another thing which was happening beyond their control.

"That is uncertain at this point. We only know that something has moved him to take action. Will you still continue onto Earth?"

"Yes, the Federation President must be told," Sester replied. _And there is still something else I must do._

Of all of the current psychostrategists, Sester was the one who was able to cast events the farthest into the future and the past. At times, he seemed to be able to draw lines through the immeasurable patterns of infinity. Apart from the aliens who appeared to be invading human space again, Sester believed that he was the only one who knew what was really going on. Or rather he had made a highly educated guess with all the data available to him; which was a good description of what psychostrategists did.

* * *

ORAC had now located all of the components which it required to synthesize the antidote serum. However it was having some difficulties formulating a plan to rescue Avon. There were certain things which had to occur in order for there to be a successful rescue of both the analyst and the crew.

Although ORAC knew how to generate the antidote now, it could not yet tell the crew. In its experience, humans were illogical creatures. If it had told them about the virus and antidote now, it would also have to tell them about Avon. It was sure that if it did that, the crew would attempt to rescue the analyst before the time was ready; and end up putting Avon in even a worse position than he was now or get him killed. ORAC decided to come up with a plan first; then it would inform the crew.

* * *

"Must we always fight?" asked Argus.

"Why are you tired of it?" asked Reya.

"I would like a little variety once in a while," he replied.

"Then all you need to do is agree with me," replied Reya.

There was an instant look of rebellion on his face.

She added, "Once in awhile."

She could see that he was considering this new idea.

"I think I can manage that. Once in a while," he told her finally. There was a faint grin on his face.

They were still in the infirmary; both were starting to get very restless. Although neither of them were one hundred percent, they were much better health-wise and couldn't wait to be released by the Healer.

Garett entered the infirmary and crossed over to where both of them were still chained to their respective beds. He appeared puzzled.

"Why are you both still here?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" asked Reya. "You still haven't released us yet." She pulled on the chain connecting her hand to the railing.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I left instructions that you were supposed to be released last night." He was studying them both curiously. They were not arguing when he entered the room. It was the first time he had seen that.

Argus had a displeased look on his face. "You mean we spent a whole day here when we could have been doing something more productive?"

"I'm afraid so. But I think you've both scared off my infirmary personnel. That's probably why they didn't tell you."

"I guess it was partially our fault. We shouldn't have given them such a hard time," said Argus.

"Speak for yourself," said Reya. "I'm not the one who knocked two of them out."

"Are you saying that this is all my fault?" he asked her. "I wouldn't have had to do that the second time if you hadn't tried to have me drugged. And whatever happened to agreeing with each other once in awhile?"

"You promised to agree with me. I never promised to agree with you."

Argus opened his mouth to respond and then stopped. There was nothing he could say against such logic. He chuckled. "You're right. I'm the only one who agreed. Alright, it was all my fault."

"No. You're right, we are both responsible," she replied. Now that he had conceded, she could too.

Argus opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. He was confused; he doubted if he would ever understand her.

* * *

Avon was sharing a breakfast with Servalan at Residence One. They were both sitting on the couches at the far end of her bedroom. The analyst always enjoyed the meal here.

He had never been one to be concerned with such pedestrian things as the taste of food; but having been forced to eat the unappetizing gruel which substituted for food at the Federation Special Detention Centre, anything which tasted different was something to be valued.

Avon took another sip of the excellent coffee; appreciating its strong aroma, savouring the taste and enjoying the slightly bitter aftertaste.

Servalan always allowed him to stay until morning now whenever she sent for him. And she always fed him before returning him to work at the Detention Centre.

Although she was still enjoyed controlling and tormenting him at times, Servalan's attitude towards him had changed. She treated him with more care now; sometimes even asking him what he wanted instead of just forcing her will on him.

Avon wondered how much of it was real and how much an illusion still.

"Why is it I never know what you are thinking, Avon?" asked Servalan. She had finished her own breakfast had been watching him eat; she always loved watching him.

Avon started. Someone else had asked him that once; along time ago.

"Be thankful you do not know."

"Am I really that terrible Avon?"

"You are a devious, lying, amoral, treacherous snake with a façade of humanity. Is that what you want to hear?"

For a brief moment he thought he saw something in her eyes which indicated hurt but it disappeared so quickly he thought he must have imagined it.

_You never will forgive me will you? _Thought Servalan with regret. _Especially since I will never allow you to be free_.

She laughed. "You have such a way with words my dearest Avon."

Avon smiled wryly. In this world, both of them were equally viewed with open suspicion and mistrust.

After breakfast, she put the manacles back on his wrists then she pulled him to her and kissed him one final time before calling for the guards. Her embrace was gentle.

"Until next time," she said before the guards took him away.

As the guards led him back out through the hidden exit in her office, Avon thought, _It is that façade of humanity which makes things complicated.

* * *

_

When psychostrategist Sester arrived back on Earth, he immediately went to see Servalan at her private office in Residence One.

"You are back early," said Servalan. She normally read all reports from Sector Ten herself and was well informed about everything which was going on. But there had been one thing which had been omitted from the reports.

"Yes, Madame President. There was something urgent I needed to discuss with you," said Sester.

Servalan instantly became alert. "What is wrong?"

"You have expressed many times about your unease regarding how quiet things were in the former Star One Sector."

"Yes?" Servalan asked. She had a horrible premonition about what he was about to say.

"I'm afraid you may be right; but not quite in the way you expected."

Servalan wanted to tell him to spit out it but the psychostrategist seemed to like to pause for dramatic effect.

"For quite some time now, the psychostrategy team in Sector Ten have been tracking an unknown influence acting on the conflict in the Athol Territories. Whoever it was kept their activities very well hidden. The only thing we saw were the outward effects," said Sester.

He could see from the reaction on Servalan's face that she was about to ask why she was not informed about this earlier. Before she asked the obvious question, he continued, "We did not inform you because the connection was tenuous. We had no proof. We still don't."

"You have no proof. But you are certain?"

"Yes. As a psychostrategist, I am certain. I believe that they are the ones who have been impeding Federation efforts in the conflict we started. We had intended Ellis to become established as Overlord in the Territories, under our guidance of course. But he has become much more powerful than we have helped him to be. I believe that this is because the aliens have been helping him."

"So if he wins, it will be the aliens in control of that Sector. Not the Federation?"

"Yes." _This is good_, thought Sester. _You seem to understand the implications immediately. But how far are you willing to go?_

"Have the aliens been able to penetrate the anti-matter mine field?" Servalan asked.

"No. I do not think that is where the danger is coming from."

Servalan looked confused. "I do not understand. Are they coming from somewhere else?"

"No. They came from the same place but the direction of their attack is different," explained Sester.

Servalan still looked confused. "Explain."

"You remember that after the battle, all of our forces were scattered throughout several sectors. Many of our people, including yourself, ended up stranded on various worlds after their ships were destroyed."

"You are saying that the same thing happened with the aliens."

"Yes. While the Federation has been trying to rebuild its empire and restore its forces, the aliens left stranded here have been trying to do the same. It appears that their goal is still the same. They mean to either destroy humanity or at least take us over. And they are doing it covertly now."

"The ones at Star One were able to camouflage themselves as humans."

"Yes, that is what makes them extremely dangerous. We not only do not know where they have hidden themselves; but on the surface, we cannot tell who they are. And it appears that in Sector Ten, they have become strong enough not only to affect the outcome of the conflict there but most likely they have acquired enough resources to add to it."

"And we have allowed them free reign."

"Yes. Unfortunately. We have been so focused on reestablishing the Federation that we have completely missed what they were doing. It may be that some of the problems we have experienced over the past few years may have been instigated or influenced by these hidden aliens."

"This is very disturbing. But I assume you did not come back just to tell me that. You already have a strategy to deal with the problem."

It was also disturbing to Sester that Servalan was proving to know him very well.

"Yes. The Federation is still far from being the power we once were. Our rebuild efforts are still many years from completion. And with the interference from the aliens hidden among us, it may take even longer."

"I know that already."

"We will need help."

"Yes, but from where."

"There is one group which also works hidden among us."

"You mean the rebels who are trying to destroy the Federation?"

"Yes."

"Why would they help us? I would not be surprised if they were not helping the aliens already."

"Servalan, you know they would not. Many of them came out to fight with us during the alien invasion. They know what the aliens are after as well as we do. That is why you believed Blake's group when they contacted you about the danger at Star One. We may have different ideologies on how humanity is to be ruled but we all have a vested interested in preserving humanity against the aliens."

"Supposing that is true, how do we go about convincing them? You said that you do not have proof. If I were them, I would suspect a trap."

"We need an intermediary. Someone whom they will trust; even if they do not trust us."

"And who is this wonderful intermediary?"

"The _Justice_ and its crew is currently out in Sector Ten."

"What?" Servalan asked in shock.

"Yes. We only found that out recently."

"How do we know that they are not the ones causing the problems there?"

"It is true that they have been causing problems but that is independent of the alien threat."

"How do we know that they are not aliens themselves?"

"We captured their leader Argus and had him tortured. We know he is not an alien."

"It appears there are many things you have not told me."

"Unfortunately we did not know who he was when he was captured. And we did not know yet that the _Justice_ was in the system."

"You think that you can convince him to work with us and stop working against us?"

"It will be difficult. I have been observing Argus's group and studying their abilities. I believe they will be invaluable in helping us against the aliens. But there is one thing you must do."

Sester paused and looked at Servalan, trying to judge carefully what he was about to say.

"Me?"

"Yes."

Servalan did not like the tone in Sester's voice. It meant he was about to say something he was afraid that she would not like.

"You need to give them back Avon."

"No!" Servalan had not expected this.

"Even with their abilities, they are not enough. They need Avon. And it will be our guarantee that we are serious."

"Find another way." Servalan's voice was cold and firm.

Sester sighed. He had been afraid of this. The reports from the Special Detention Centre lately had noted that Avon had been spending a lot of time at Residence One. The psychostrategist's plan to encourage Servalan's attachment to Avon had worked too well. She could not be expected to be rational with respect to Avon.

"Yes, Madame President."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

"You're a quick learner," remarked Argus to Reya. They had come back from another successful mission. They were returning the operational equipment to the ship's stores.

Since Kameron Reve and Borel had formed an alliance, things had changed. Borel's forces added to Kam's were fighting Ellis on several fronts. Even with the joining of the two groups, they were still vastly outnumbered; but Borel's tactical skills made them more than enough.

Argus and Reya had been leading their hand-picked units into more conventional, commando-type raids against Ellis's forces. He had been teaching her Federation commando tactics.

"You're a good teacher," Reya replied.

Argus looked at her suspiciously. "You're making me nervous," he told her. "You haven't said one insulting thing to me today."

"I thought you said that you like variety."

Argus opened his mouth to say something and thought better of it. Instead he said, "I don't understand you."

"At least you didn't say that I still annoy you."

"I didn't say that you didn't. Life used to be so simple. You make my life so much more complicated now."

"Are you saying that you don't want me around?"

"You know I don't mean that. Why do you always think the worst of me?"

"I don't. But somehow you always bring out the worst in me when we're fighting."

"So you agree that we are bad for each other?"

"You know I don't mean that either." She was starting to get frustrated. The two of them had been wanting to say something to each other since Argus had gone to rescue her; against all operational rules. But each effort always ended up in a fight.

"I want to know why you came to rescue me."

"You rescued me."

"So you're saying that it was repayment? I rescued you. So you rescued me. And now we're even?"

"I don't know," Argus sounded confused.

Reya was even more confused. She had wanted him to say something but he didn't.

"You were supposed to follow protocol. You're a soldier. At least you used to be one. Why didn't you follow orders?" Reya demanded.

"And leave you to die?"

"Yes, I told you to leave me. But you didn't listen. You never do. You risked everything to come after me, even though I told you that Borel needed you."

"Are you going to hold that against me now?" Argus asked.

"I just want to know why you did it."

Argus very much wanted to tell her but instead he turned around and stormed out; leaving too many unanswered questions between them.

* * *

"There is an incoming message," Zen reported.

Jenna, Cally and Vila turned towards the computer's visual display. They were all in the conference area of the flight deck trying to decide what to do with the information that the aliens were back and causing trouble.

"Who from?" Vila asked.

"There is no sender identified. The message contains two sentences for visual display and a communications frequency."

Jenna crossed over to ORAC's unit and used the command transmitter.

"ORAC."

"What is it?" ORAC replied with the same irritated tone it normally used.

"I want you to analyze the message which Zen just received. Determine if there are any dangers in reading the message."

"Very well." After a few moments it replied, "The message is simple. There are no discernable threats."

Jenna instructed the ship's computer, "Zen, relay the message to the main screen."

"Confirmed."

On the screen two sentences appeared.

_Regret is part of being alive. But keep it a small part._

Cally exclaimed, "It's Avon."

Jenna and Vila looked at her. "What trick is this?" said Jenna.

"That was something Avon said to me many years ago," Cally told them.

"That may be, but why should we listen to him now?" said Vila.

"You don't understand. I've been trying to find a way to tell you. That day when Avon was on the ship and had a gun on us, I felt that something was wrong with him."

"Yes, he was holding a gun on us. I'd say that was very wrong of him," said Vila.

"No," said Cally. She didn't know how to explain it to them but she tried. "I could feel that the Federation had done something to him. He felt he had no choice. I could sense that he felt trapped. And he was so damaged."

"How do you know that?" Jenna challenged.

"I could sense it."

"We can't go on your sensing something, Cally. No offence. You don't have any proof and we have more important matters right now."

Cally said, "Ask ORAC." She was making a desperate gamble.

"Why?" Vila asked. "What can ORAC tell us?"

"Please, Jenna. Just ask ORAC."

Jenna could see that the Auron was very serious. She did not see any harm in humouring her if it meant that they could get onto more pressing matters as soon as possible.

Unsure of what she was even going to ask ORAC, Jenna addressed the computer, "ORAC."

"Must you always take up my time when I am busy?" asked ORAC.

"ORAC, I have a question to ask you. You have been listening to our conversation regarding the message and Avon?"

"Yes. Of course," replied ORAC.

"Cally thinks we should use the frequency provided in the message to contact Avon. What do you advise?"

ORAC did not understand why Avon would have sent a message directly to the crew. It also did not understand why Avon did not include either a command frequency or code which it would recognize. But it appeared that the Auron recognized a personal message from Avon.

"I advise that you accept the message. Now please stop bothering me."

This was not the answer that Jenna had been expecting. She said begrudgingly, "Very well. Zen, use the frequency provided in the message and initiate contact. Relay to main viewscreen."

"Confirmed."

The viewscreen showed static for a second then the picture cleared. A man appeared on the screen. Cally recognized him. It was not Avon.

"You!" she exclaimed.

"Hello Cally."

"You're the one who sent the message?"

"Yes."

Cally realized that there one other person who knew about the conversation regarding regret.

"Cally, who is this?" Jenna asked. Both Jenna and Vila were confused and immediately suspicious.

The Auron explained, "When I was a prisoner of the Federation, I met someone in the prison. He was a prisoner too. We became friends. His name was Nolan."

"Yes. And you told me many things Cally," said Sester.

Cally had a sinking feeling. "I should never have told you all those things, should I have?"

"No."

"Is your name even Nolan?" she asked.

"No. It is Sester. I am a psychostrategist."

"Then you work for the Federation, don't you?"

"Yes."

"What?!" exclaimed Jenna. "Zen! …" Jenna was about to tell the computer to immediately terminate communications.

Knowing what she was about to do, Sester asked, "Wait. Please listen to what I have to say first. All of our lives may depend on it."

Jenna stopped. "What do you mean?"

"You are Jenna Stannis," identified the psychostrategist. "And the other one must be Vila. Where is your leader? Argus?"

Jenna did not answer him. Instead she demanded, "Explain what you just said or I will terminate communications."

"First there is something I must explain."

"Explain," said Jenna. "But if there is anything we do not like, we will terminate the communication."

"Fair enough."

"Alright. What do you have to tell us?"

"Do you remember the alien invasion at Star One?" began Sester. He gave them an abbreviated version of he what he had explained to Servalan. "I do not have any proof though."

Jenna said, "You don't need any."

"Ahhh. You've already seen them?" Sester asked.

"In a manner of speaking. What does Servalan want?"

Sester smiled. The crew of the _Justice_ were not fools. If they were, he would not be taking the chance he was about to take. He gave them plausible explanation without giving them the real reason. They did not need to know about Servalan's relationship with Avon.

"This is not from Servalan?"

"No."

"How can you promise that we can work together with the Federation if Servalan is not involved in this decision?"

"Leave Servalan to me. Cally can tell you how persuasive I can be."

Cally nodded when they all looked to her for confirmation.

Sester continued, "I know that it would be useless for me to ask you to trust me. So I as pledge of good faith. I am going to return Avon to you. Or rather, I will give you information so that you can rescue him."

"And why should we want to rescue him?" asked Vila.

"Come now Vila, even you must realize by now that Avon had no choice in what he did. There is one additional problem. All of you have been infected by a new hybrid form of virus. The same virus you went to Tingash to obtain information about. Your ship's medical facilities will probably be able to confirm that. It is a virus which can be controlled using an external means. Means which Servalan possesses. You must find the antidote before you rescue Avon or she will use it to kill all of you."

"That is easier said than done," said Jenna. For some reason she found herself trusting this man. She understood why Cally had found him persuasive.

"It is not that difficult. The antidote is probably on one of the Federation ships currently orbitting either Gaverin Three or Tysus."

If ORAC was human, one could say that it was extremely annoyed now. Despite not having received a specific command or request, it decided it needed to speak up.

"That is not necessary."

They all turned towards ORAC.

Sester, who could not see what they were all looking at asked, "Who is that?"

"Zen, mute the communications channel," Jenna instructed.

"Confirmed."

"Explain ORAC," Jenna told it. There appeared to be many things that no one had bothered to tell them, including ORAC. She was not thrilled.

ORAC explained. "The last time Avon was onboard the _Justice_, he left coded instructions. One instruction was to obtain the antidote to the techno-virus. The other was to locate all of the materials required to manufacture the antidote. I have achieved both objectives. The only task which remains is for a human agency to go to the places which I will identify in order to obtain the necessary components. Once this is achieved, I will be able to synthesize the required antidote using the ship's laboratory facilities."

"You _are_ more useful than a drinks dispenser," remarked Vila.

Jenna asked, "Avon did that?"

"If you are asking if Avon left instructions, then yes he did. If you are asking if he found all of the necessary information, then no. That task fell to me and I have achieved it despite overwhelming obstacles," ORAC replied.

For some reason Jenna found herself saying, "You have done well ORAC. We could not have done it without you."

"Of course," said ORAC. Now that it was the centre of attention, they could all almost swear that ORAC was sounding very pleased with itself.

"There will be no living with ORAC now," remarked Vila.


	16. Chapter 16

**New Patterns and Old Friends: The Improbability Zone**

Chapter Sixteen

Jenna contacted Argus at Borel's headquarters and explained the situation to him. Because he had already seen the aliens onboard the command ship which Reya's teams had destroyed, he was inclined to agree with their assessment of Sester's offer.

Argus had just spoken to Borel regarding the new development. He was now headed towards Reya's quarters.

He knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again, "Reya, it's me Argus. Let me in. I have to speak to you."

There was still no response. He was about to knock a third time when the door opened automatically.

Reya was sitting at a table, with her back to the door. Argus entered.

He stood awkwardly; waiting for her to turn around. This was the first time he had ever entered her room. Reya's quarters was a sparse place; there were barely any personal touches. It was as if its occupant never expected any permanency.

Argus was still standing by the door; as if he was afraid to enter further without her permission.

When it did not appear that she was going to face him, he began, "I…"

Then he stopped. He didn't know how to tell her.

"You're leaving aren't you?" asked Reya, surprising him. She still had her back towards him.

"How did you know?"

"All important communications goes through me."

"You mean you've been spying on me again. This has got to stop."

"You've told me now. Now get out."

"No," he said firmly.

"Please, Argus. Leave now."

"No."

"It's better this way."

"No. It's not."

_This is getting us nowhere_, thought Argus. Ever the man of action, he crossed the short distance to where she sat and spun her chair around to face him.

What he saw made him let go of the chair as if it was something hot which had just burned him. She had tried to hide it but he saw that she clearly had been crying.

_No. It's not supposed to be like this, _thought Argus.

"Are you happy now?" asked Reya. She stood up and faced him.

"I'm sorry," Argus told her. He didn't know what else to say. Argus had so many things he had planned to say to her; like a precision military manoeuvre. But it all fell apart the moment he saw her face.

"Will you get out now?" Reya asked again.

"No."

"Either say something else or leave."

Argus stared at her dumbly. How could he tell her that he was so incapable of thought right now that he could barely remember his own name?

"You really are hopeless aren't you?" Reya said to him when she realized he was frozen.

An insult. This was something he recognized; and instantly responded to.

"I'm not the one who was crying."

"We are a fine pair," said Reya sarcastically. She began pacing the room restlessly then stopped. Argus had still not moved. From behind him she said, "Well, are you going to say something else? Or do I have to insult you again?"

He turned around to face her and smiled.

"Stop smiling at me," she told him. For some reason his smile made her angry.

He could not take her crying. She could not take this look of joy on his face.

Argus turned serious again.

"I have to go, Reya. My team needs me. And with the aliens from Star One causing trouble again, I have to be out there." He stopped and waited for her to say something.

She didn't.

He asked her, "Come with me."

This provoked a response. She stared at him and saw he was being serious.

Insults came easily; truth was difficult.

"You know I can't go with you, Argus. Anymore than you can stay. The battle is far from over; I am needed here. And with what you have taught me, I will be even more effective. For people like us, duty always comes first. Anything else is a distant second."

"No." Argus shook his head. He thought he had the perfect plan and she was determined to destroy it.

Reya sighed. "You know it's true. I want you to leave now, Argus. If you don't, I'm going to cry again; then I'll never forgive you."

She was right; again. _Why do you always do this to me?_ he thought. He had always thought himself the strong one but she was proving to be stronger; and he loved her for it.

"You're wonderful," he told her. He sounded so much like the Argus who had once been so incapacitated and so fixated on a single thought that this brought a smile to her lips.

"I know. Now will you leave?"

"Alright. But I have one more thing to do." He took her in his arms and kissed her.

For two people who were rough and highly physical, their embrace was exceedingly gentle.

After a few moments, he let go of her and without another word, he left.

* * *

"Welcome back, Argus," said Jenna as the rebel leader stepped off the teleport platform.

"Yes," said Argus absently. He sighed heavily then said, "Tell me what the situation is." He headed towards the flight deck without even looking to see if she was following.

Ignored, Vila stepped off the teleport platform and followed them. He had been the one to bring the teleport bracelet down to Argus. There was a puzzled look on Vila's face.

* * *

It had taken several days but the crew finally gathered all of the materials which ORAC had identified for the synthesis of the antidote.

"I think ORAC likes bossing us around," remarked Vila as they returned from the last foraging trip. This one involved trekking through miles of jungle because for some reason, only understandable to ORAC, they could not teleport there directly.

Vila was soaked to the skin and extremely muddy. He had accidentally fallen down a short embankment and into a stream.

"I will get this to the medical unit," said Cally, who was neither wet nor muddy. She was holding a large bag. From it was protruding plants with long spikey thorns.

"How long do you think it will take to synthesize the antidote now that we have the final ingredient?" asked Jenna, who had been operating the teleport controls to bring them back up.

"That is up to ORAC," Cally replied. "It has not been very forthcoming with information about that."

They all left the teleport room.

Argus had already left without a word to any of them.

The crew had noticed that since coming back from helping Borel, the rebel leader seemed different. Although he was normally not very communicative, he seemed even quieter than usual; only speaking to them when there was something operational to be discussed. And the way he acted did not invite questions about anything else.

They had all felt that it was better to leave him alone for now.

* * *

"You must be Argus," remarked Sester over the main viewscreen on the _Justice_.

"Yes, and you are Sester?"

"Correct."

"Why are you helping us?" Argus asked. Even though the others had explained it to him, he needed to assess the man on the screen for himself. The rebel leader was currently alone on the flight deck. He had asked to be alone for this meeting.

Sester nodded. If he were in the rebel leader's place he would also not be satisfied with second-hand knowledge. With him, Sester recognized that he would have to tell the truth. But he would have to be careful.

"I have been studying your group. I believe that your team will be essential in helping with the upcoming crisis. You are able to do things and access people who are otherwise inaccessible for us. You have proven that in how you handled the Athol situation. If it were not for your group, the aliens would already have taken over that Sector of space."

Even though Sester was speaking sincerely, his manner and his carefully measured words told Argus one thing. _You are clever_, thought Argus. _Like Avon_._ Much too clever. What are you hiding?_

"You are a military commander and I know that you would already have worked out that you need the Federation's forces in this crisis. The rebels are too few and too disorganized currently to provide much of a resistance alone. And you cannot fight both of us at the same time."

_That much is true_, thought Argus. _If you have worked that out already then you will know my next question_.

"I know you do not trust me. There is no reason why you should. We are enemies and will always remain so. But even enemies can use each other for common survival."

The man's logic was impeccable._ I really hate psychostrategists_, thought Argus.

"You told my team that you were giving us back Avon," said Argus.

_Although if it were up to me, you can keep him,_ thought Argus

"Yes. As a gesture of how serious I am. I am doing this at great personal risk. And you know that although your team is very good; with him, you become exceptional."

_Why are you so confident?_ wondered Argus. _You would must know that giving us Avon is a double-edged weapon for the Federation._

"I am sending a coded burst signal directly to you. The files that you will need for Avon. They give a detailed history of what has been done to him and what drugs you will require."

"Drugs? Explain." This did not sound good.

"You spent some time at the Special Detention Centre yourself. You know some of the things which are done. But you were not there long enough to know all of the things which can be done to a human mind. Unfortunately Avon has been there longer than anyone has ever been. Some techniques were also devised specifically for him. I'm afraid that without the drugs he will no longer be able to function."

This made Argus very angry. But he was never a man to show emotion.

_I would not wish this on anyone. Not even you Avon, _thought Argus.

"One day the Federation will be held accountable for what it does. I will hold it accountable," promised Argus. His voice was cold and no one could mistake his seriousness.

"I would not expect anything else. But not today. And not until this crisis is over."

"You are very sure that we will cooperate."

"You do not have a choice. And neither do we," pointed out Sester. "We can go back to destroying each other when it is safe to do so."

The man was irritatingly superior.

"Very well. Send the files," said Argus.

The man on the screen did something offscreen.

Zen registered, "Report. Incoming files from active communication frequency."

"Accept the files and store under my personal security code, Zen."

"Confirmed."

Sester added, "I have also sent information to break his conditioning."

"Is there anything which was not done to him?" asked Argus sarcastically.

"We had a lot of time to work on him," replied Sester without apology. There were some details which were missing from the files sent; specifically what happened to Avon when he was with Servalan. Those details had never been recorded on any official record.

Sester continued, "The best place to rescue Avon is when he is at Residence One."

Argus didn't think he wanted to know why Avon would be there.

"Even though it will be heavily guarded, it will not be as inaccessible as the Special Detention Centre would be."

"It would be better if we were able to intercept him enroute."

"Unfortunately the route is highly classified and changes each time. I have no access to that information. And he has a heavy security escort. In the files you have just received, I have provided a detailed plan of the Residence and the weakest spots in the security system. The rest I leave up to your military skills. I will communicate one more time with you to tell you when Avon is at Residence One. After that, I do not think we should communicate again."

Sester judged that things would be a little more relaxed at night. It was unfortunate human nature that the earliest hours of the morning were also the weakest. As well, after Avon had been there a few hours, their guard would definitely be down.

_Embarrassing for you Avon, but also your best chance_, thought Sester.

"Do you have any questions?" Sester asked.

"No," replied Argus.

"Sester out."


	17. Chapter 17

This is the seventh and final story in the New Patterns and Old Friends B7 story series. I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave me a comment. Feedback is always welcome.

I have already started the next series, called Perceptions, which follows after this one. The first story is already complete in that one and I am currently working on the 2nd story for it.

I know that one or two of you have moved over to the LiveJournal site in order to follow this series of stories. That is always welcome.

Thanks,

Kalinda001

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

"You still love him, don't you?" Avon asked Servalan. She had been talking about Don Keller again. Avon's arm was around her as she lay relaxed against his shoulder.

"No."

"Then why did you go looking for him on Virn?"

"I wanted to kill him."

"You wanted answers."

"Stop it, Avon. Stop trying to understand me." He was making her uncomfortable.

Avon realized with dismay that he had fallen into the same trap as Tarrant. And he was the greater fool. Tarrant had fallen for her tricks; but Avon had sought to understand the mystery. He had walked into the trap on his own. Here, in her bedroom, with her guard slipping, she had become human.

He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head up to face him.

"When will you stop trying to punish him?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Avon looked into her eyes and the confusion reflected there and thought, W_hen did you become so vulnerable?_

He said, "You really don't, do you?"

She did not know how to respond to him. _Is that what I have been doing? With you?_

"You always stress how alike we are. Why is that important to you?" he asked when she didn't answer him. He suddenly had a flash of insight; and wish he hadn't.

"And when will you stop trying to punish yourself?"

Servalan pushed against him and sat up facing him.

"Now I really don't know what you are talking about," she said. There was a coldness in her tone.

Of course, timing demanded that very moment was the perfect time for Argus and Vila to arrive. Avon saw them. He quickly sat up and pulled the blanket around Servalan's shoulders.

"What took you so long," he asked them.

Clutching the blanket to her, Servalan whirled around to face the two men who had appeared in her bedroom.

"How did you get in here?" She demanded. Her hand slowly moved towards a hidden security button.

"I wouldn't," Avon stopped her hand in a hard grip. Servalan turned to stare at him in anger. She felt as if she had just been betrayed.

Argus and Vila approached the bed, their pistols raised to cover the Federation President.

"Madame President. I would stay very still if I were you," said Argus.

"Who are you?" she asked outraged.

"My name is Argus."

"We have been searching for you."

"I know."

Vila had an amused look on his face as he saw the state of Avon and Servalan on the bed. He remarked to Avon, "I was going to say that we were here to save you from a fate worse than death, but I see we were too late. Or were we too early?"

Avon gave Vila a cold stare. "Bring me my clothes," he told him. Vila looked around and spotted the discarded prison coveralls on the ground. He picked it up and handed it to Avon.

"I take it ORAC followed my orders?" Avon asked as he got out of bed and pulled the coveralls on.

"Yes and no," said Argus. "We are safe from the virus. As for the rest, we can discuss that later." The rebel leader guessed what they would find in Servalan's bedroom and had insisted that only he and Vila teleport down. Argus handed Avon a teleport bracelet. "Do you want to kill her yourself?" he asked, indicating Servalan.

Despite their agreement with Sester, there had been no promise not to kill Servalan. After Argus had read the files which Sester had sent, he felt that Avon deserved the chance to kill her. They would deal with whatever fallout would result.

"Give me a gun," Avon told him as he snapped on the bracelet.

Argus nodded to Vila, who was very happy to surrender his weapon to someone else.

Avon trained the phase pistol on Servalan.

The analyst told them, "Downstairs, in a locked safe, you will find ORAC's key. I trust you are still competent enough to open it Vila. You can take the lift next to the liquor cabinet. There is a recessed button on the side of the cabinet. Now leave us. I want to have a few words with the Federation President. I will signal for teleport when I am done."

Argus looked at Avon. The analyst had a cold impassive look on his face and his gun hand was steady. The rebel leader nodded. "Let's go get the key, Vila."

"Oh. Yes. Right." Vila didn't really want to leave. He felt that things were much more interesting in the bedroom.

Argus took Vila's arm firmly and guided him to the lift. The two men left.

Avon sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the woman who had been the bane of his existence for more years than he could remember.

"We don't need to talk. Just kill me," Servalan told him. "We have already done too much talking. It's time to work Avon."

Avon immediately knew what she had done as his mind began responding to the conditioning.

"It won't work Servalan. You no longer have any leverage over me."

"That's true. But you know that unless I turn the conditioning off, your mind will destroy itself."

"I would rather be free and go insane rather than spend another day trapped here under your control."

"Then kill me and go."

Avon pointed the gun at her and squeezed the trigger slowly. Servalan showed no fear.

She was his hated enemy. The woman who had him tortured and turned his weaknesses into debilitating nightmares; the one who used him like a personal slave and had conditioned him to work for her. She had broken his body and made his sanity dependent on drugs he would never be free of. Every pain in his body and every scar was a reminder of what she had done to him.

It was so easy to kill her now and to end his misery. It was time. It had reached the point of no return. The gun shot out its charged energy; racing towards its final destination. And hit the wall behind Servalan.

Avon lowered the gun. He could not kill her.

"Are you going to stay then?" Servalan asked. Her voice had softened. She had seen the anger and hatred in his eyes when he pulled the trigger; she had expected to die.

"No," he replied. In that one word was conveyed a wealth of misery which was incongruous with a face which remained emotionless.

"You have to. I do not want you to go insane. That would be worse than death for you."

"Yes," he admitted. "Perhaps I will end up killing myself. But at least I would be free."

"And you would rather do that than to stay here with me?"

"Yes," he replied. There was no emotion in his voice. He felt numb. Part of him no longer wanted to feel anything. It meant he would not have to hate himself.

Servalan suddenly realized something. "You knew that this might happen, didn't you? Even if your crew obtained the antidote, you knew you were still vulnerable to the conditioning and that I would use it against you."

"I know you; I knew it would be a strong possibility. Even if we knew how, the likelihood would be that we would never be able to break the conditioning soon enough to prevent me from going insane."

"So you were waiting for them to rescue you so that you could die?" she asked incredulously.

"You would not give me that option."

"Avon," she said his name softly. There was such sadness in her voice.

"Don't," he told her. "Don't become human." _Don't become more human._

He leaned forward and kissed her briefly, keeping his gun well away from her hands. Just as she responded to him, he pulled away.

"Goodbye, Servalan."

Avon stood up away from the bed and activated the teleport bracelet on his wrist, "This is Avon. Bring me up."

Just as his form began to shimmer in a familiar energy, Servalan said quietly, "It's time to rest Avon."

Despite his efforts to hide his actions, Servalan knew who it was who had freed Avon. She knew it couldn't be anyone else. She immediately instructed her special security personnel to apprehend the psychostrategist.

* * *

The cell door opened. The Federation President stood in the doorway, flanked by her hooded personal guards.

Sester was sitting on a metal sleep platform. His hands were restrained by shackles. He was not wearing a prison uniform; obviously an oversight by the Centre personnel. Sester reflected how the guards had processed him with undisguised pleasure and anticipation.

There was no sign of fear or defeat on his face. He was every inch the confident psychostrategist Servalan had known for over three years. There was even an amused look on his face.

The psychostrategist had almost escaped. He had been about to board his personal observer craft when the Central Spaceport had been shut down for security reasons. After that he didn't have a chance. He did not even bother to run; and had waited calmly for them to take him.

Sester stood up as the Federation President entered. Her guards did not follow her into the cell. The door slid closed. Sester saw that the security cameras had been switched off.

"Madame President."

"Sester."

There was an atmosphere of formality between them.

"Given my present circumstances, I assume that Avon got away?"

"I let him go."

The psychostrategist reacted in surprise then he laughed.

"The two of you consistently surprise me," he told her. There was no need for pretense any longer.

"I am glad you find it so amusing. It may be your last opportunity."

"So you came here to decide whether it would be more amusing to kill me or to torture me like you did with Avon?"

"You are in his cell."

"I am aware of that."

"Why did you do it?" she asked.

"I told you my reasons when I came back," Sester replied.

"And you think that will excuse you? I warned you what would happen if you tried to manipulate me again."

There was nothing he could say to that.

His planned had worked. Avon was free. The _Justice_ crew would help fight the aliens. And Servalan would work with them. The only thing he had not been able to ensure was his own survival.

Servalan stared at the silent man for a few seconds then she activated a button on her wrist communicator. "Open the cell door," she spoke into it. The door slid open. She turned and walked towards the exit.

"So what is your decision?" Sester asked. For once, he had no idea what she was going to do.

Servalan hesitated at the doorway, and then she said, "Kill him." She left without looking back.

The two black hooded guards entered the cell; they were like twin spectres of death in faceless masks. They both lifted their rifles and prepared to shoot him.

The psychostrategist faced his death calmly. He smiled.

Just as their fingers tightened on the triggers, he said, "Wait."


End file.
